The Devil's Tears
by Koi Carp
Summary: In order to save Kyle's life, Stan makes a deal with the antichrist, but with a heart-tearing price. To sell his body in exchange of Kyle's. Slash. Style. Dyle. Language. Stan's P.O.V.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N- Ohisashiburi! Thank you for picking up this story. I am planning to make the chapters in this story short because it's my last school year and the workload is going to be crazy. I might never update again if I make them long.**

**There might be a lot of flashbacks. Ratings may change in later chapters. (Maybe, just maybe)**

"**I just wanted to right about a red eyed Kyle!"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or any of the characters. Or even the story name (A song by Angus and Julia Stone. It's what motivated me). **

**I hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter One: What has changed over the last few months.<span> _

I walk through the silent corridor, the walls white as a blank canvas. Each step I take echoes through the frozen hall, bouncing off the cold, frozen walls, floor and ceiling. My stomach twists in an uncomfortable way, but over the hundreds of times I've walked through here, I've become able to ignore it.

To the single room at the very far end of the third floor, that is where my feet automatically take me. But I don't mind. Not thinking is a very nice feeling.

My feet stop in front of the door labelled with the number four. My eyes take a second to wonder down to the name printed underneath it. Mr. K. Broflovski. I don't know why I look at it, it's just a routine my body has picked up over the last few months. Then the one last action left, the one that is left manual, the one thing that I wish was automatic. Sliding the door open.

"Hey." A soft voice sings like bells in my ear. My heart twitches slightly at the unexpected voice, but I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god he's still here.

"Kyle," I gasp under my smile. It's a hard and heavy smile, but it's a smile nonetheless. Hearing his voice always makes the blood inside me flow. I slide the door shut behind me and take a good look of the boy before moving towards him. No more automatic movements. I have to tell my body to do everything; I have to control it. I can't ask my mouth, my feet or my hands to move automatically and leave my brain numb.

He sits there on his bed in the small empty room, coated, covered, drowned in white. White sheets, white walls, white ceiling, white floor, even the forest seen through the large window is dyed white with snow. But Kyle, his hair is like a fire burning in that snow, framing his perfect face. His small, pale, white-as-death face… My heart twitches again and I bite down. I take in his eyes, his emerald eyes, glowing in the white more so than the stone itself could ever shine.

"Are you alright to be up like that?" I point out to his posture, sinking my hands deeply into my jacket pockets. He's not lying down, his back leans into the pillows stuck up against the wall, with a book in his hands. I imagine those thin fingers shake as they turn each page of the book. He gives me a weak smile noticing my furrowed eyebrows. I just said that I control every part of my body in this room, but that's a lie. There are always things you can't control.

"Yeah" His eyes narrow with his smile troublingly. "I feel especially good today."

My knuckles unconsciously clench into tight fists against my stomach. _Especially good…_ That's what kids say when they run extra fast in a relay, or when they hit a homerun in baseball. Not when they are able sit up and hold a book in their own hands without assistance.

"That's good." But I squeeze out a smile. Because he's smiling, he's breathing, and that's enough for now.

"So what was up today?" He asks as I walk towards his bed and take my usual seat next to the bed. It's our daily routine. I come here after school and practically tell him my whole schedule, and our friends'. And today is no different. I tell him every small detail, as boring as it is just remembering them, from Cartman's extra loud burp in the middle of class to the new colour of the nurse's lipstick.

"What happened, are you okay?" He jumps, and I just remember how fast his brain works. Damn, I shouldn't talk about the nurse.

"Yeah it was nothing. Just a bruise in the shoulder." I give him a reassuring smile. He sighs a frown, but sinks back into his pillows. This is how it always goes. How paranoid he's become towards my injuries or any kinds of sickness, it's not only once or twice that I considered quitting football.

"Kyle maybe I should quit-"

"How many times do I have to tell you Stan?" He cuts into the words I didn't notice I was spilling. I look up and meet his eyes, not narrowing in a smile but in a glare. "Don't stop anything for me" He finishes with his usual words. I smile to myself, and it's unbelievingly painful.

"Yeah, I know…"

I stand up at the end of the visiting hours, leaving Kyle a few more words to let him chuckle to.

"Hey Stan…" My feet stop on the way out the door, knowing that he'll stop me to say those ridiculous words he always sends me off with. "Tell Wendy I said 'hi'?" But he knows my answer, because I say it everyday.

"I won't"

The door shuts behind me with a soft click. It's the sound that reminds me that I can't see him for another whole day. I hate that noise. I always hear it with the same gut-twisting feeling I get after rejecting his wish. But he must know how painful that wish is to me. After all he did to me, after all she did… I can't talk to Wendy for him…

The journey out the hospital is just as empty and hollow as the journey in, with all the sounds echoing inside me. All I do now is wait for tomorrow.

x

"Hi Stan." A soft voice calls behind me. My hand pauses on my locker door and I cross my eyes in frustration.

"Wendy…" I say quietly, trying to hold in the heavy, spiky feeling in the pit of my stomach. But my hand slams the locker shut, loudly, without my permission, making the girl behind me jolt. Well, it would be the least she is expecting from me. I let out a sigh. "What do you want?"

She rubs her fingers together nervously, her words clearly stuck at the bottom of her throat. I've grown used to her shy attitude around me over the last few months, but I can't help but tighten my fist against my locker, praying for her to be more quick and straightforward. Just so I can walk away from her.

"You… went to see Kyle yesterday, right?" She asks finally.

"Yeah." Something heavy squeezes my chest but I ignore it. I wasn't expecting anything better from her anyway. "I go there everyday." I add on, hoping she'll leave me alone now. She reacts to the words with a slight twitch and mutters a small "Oh…" But I don't feel her walk away.

"So… How is he?"

My tight fist explodes into the locker, making Wendy jump with a shudder and silencing the whole corridor.

"You say that to me?" I spit at her. The muscles in my arm chuckle against the screaming locker while threatening that my fist would break through the cheap wood. "Don't you act like you care Wendy. Don't you act like you give a shit."

It's me that walks away from her, leaving her no time to stop me. I see her squeezing her arm as if desperate to hold in something. But I'm not in the mood to stop and ask her what it is kindly. Not now. Probably not ever.

x

The snow begins to settle to a soft sprinkle, sinking into my showered hair, the bus stop sign, and into the spiky fur of the poor boy's hood standing next to me.

I close my eyes tightly at the sudden noise of an exploding sneeze. A groan bubbles at the back of my throat as the sound of ugly sniffling enters my ears.

"Kenny, are you okay?" I ask the guy trying to keep his snot up his nose.

"Yeah dude, I'm fine." He answers with a shaky voice, wiping the tip of his nose with his ragged orange sleeve. "Just a cold" He adds.

"Make sure you don't give it to Kyle" I reassure him, tightly.

"Yeah, I know. Don't want him dying any earlier"

My hand shoots for the collar of his jacket, and I open my mouth to shout at him, but my words drown in the bottom of my throat when the bright lights of a bus shine into my face.

"Come on Stan, let's go." Kenny's voice unties my fingers off his jacket and drags my feet toward the bus. I lose myself in his voice, in his words and in his face. I notice the dullness of the blue in his eyes, the lifelessness of his blond eyelashes, the stiffness of his lips. Even as he says a repulsing joke that doesn't change, and even as I entwine my fingers around his collar that doesn't change.

Visiting Kyle has become one of Kenny's least favourite events. And this insensitive doll is what he changes into everyday I pull him to the hospital. But those days have reduced to the minimal amount over the last few months.

We take the two seats at the very back of the bus. They have become our usual seats on the way to the hospital.

"Is Cartman coming?" I ask the silent blond.

"Nah. He said that he's seen enough of the Jew that would last him a lifetime." He mumbles, staring out the dark viewless window. "He'll probably visit in his own time"

"Yeah. I know."

We used to visit Kyle all together everyday. But now it's lucky if either of them turn up once a week. But by the way Kyle never asks about Cartman tells me that Cartman visiting him isn't a rare event, unlike Kenny's visits.

We enter the small room on the end of the third floor of the hospital, but we're welcomed in by silence. It seems like Kyle's asleep again. I see a small sigh leak out of Kenny.

"Hey Kyle," I say to the sleeping boy. I always talk to him in his sleep; even with Kenny here that doesn't change. "Guess who I brought with me."

Even though Kyle's breaths are even in his sleep, Kenny turns stiff, nervous from guilt to be near him.

"Stan?" A weak voice calls up to me. It brings my mind out of my thought and onto the emerald eyes of the boy lying in his white sheets. Kyle gives me a small smile and pulls himself up into a sitting position.

"You should stay down Kyle." I advise him, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

"No way. Kenny's here." He looks at the poor boy dressed in orange leaning against the pale wall, blocking himself with his arms crossed around his chest. But Kyle gives him a warm smile, a smile that shows his pure happiness to be seeing the boy. "It's good to see you, Ken."

Kenny chuckles weakly, shaking under his crossed arms. "Yeah. You too."

Kyle returns a chuckle to him, which slowly builds into laughter, a rare sound like an angel's song. It drags me in with him, even Kenny breathes out a laugh of relief. But Kyle's bright laughter suddenly turns into harsh coughs, bringing us into an instant stop.

"Kyle!" I shout, panicking under his aggressive coughing.

"I'm okay" He squeezes through his blocked throat. But his hands over his mouth suddenly shoot to his stomach, curling around his skinny waist and digging his fingers deep into his skin. He curls his body into a ball, holding his scrunched-up face against his knees, desperate to hold in a screech of pain.

"Kyle, what's wrong? What should we do!" I shoot Kenny a glance but he seems to be frozen on his spot in shock. "Nurse," I gasp, but a hand grasps my sleeve, stopping me from calling anyone.

"Don't" Kyle squeezes with a vanishing voice, his body still in ball, rocking slightly, but with his hand firmly gripping onto me. "It's nothing." His painful voice only stirs my worry to a limit, but his grip, desperate, leaves me frozen on the spot.

He calms down after a few mind-crushingly long moments. The strength in his body flowing away, sinking his back into the pillows, but his hand still holds my sleeve.

On the other hand, Kenny and I are still tensed from shock, afraid that his pain might suddenly come again.

"Sorry, did I scare you guys?" He smiles troublingly, noticing our frozen stances. Even after such pain, he's worried about us. "It's nothing really. It happens sometimes. Especially recently…" His last two words nearly vanish under his breath, but I heard it. And Kenny did too.

The hand around my jacket tightens its grip, catching my attention.

"Stan, I…" Kyle whispers. "I think…" I stop my breath and hear carefully for what he has to say. But after a second, all that follows is a heavy sigh. "Nothing…"

A heavy silence comes between us and occupies us for the rest of the visit. I don't notice how fast the time goes even without conversation until the nurse comes to tell us that visiting hours are over.

"Stan? Can you tell Wendy I said 'Hi'?"

"…No"

I close the door after our usual routine.

"Does he still ask you that?" Kenny says as we walk down the white hospital corridor.

"Yeah" I answer. "Every day."

He chuckles heavily beside me.

"It's funny. We're the ones meant to be cheering him up, but we end up being cheered up by him."

"…Yeah"

x

We let our bodies fall into the white snow of the hill behind the bus stop at the end of town. The falling snow tickles my nose and eyelashes as it melts on my open face. But there is one thing that I can't get my mind off, something that makes the tickling snow seem like nothing.

"What was he about to say?" I mutter under my breath.

"Who?" Kenny asks, sitting up and looking into my face. I let out a sigh, not expecting him to have heard me.

"Kyle." I answer him, nonetheless. "He tried to say something."

Kenny's eyebrows twitches into frown and he looks away.

"He was probably gonna say that he thinks his time is up, and that he's gonna die soon."

My body swings up into the air and I tackle Kenny by his hood with the force. How can he still be joking around like that? Insensitive bastard.

"I swear to god you should shut your mouth McCormick or you'll find out how hard it is to chew on frozen waffles with no teeth!" He sways under my shaking grip with his eyes fixed dully on the ground, refusing to meet my eyes. It stirs my anger even more. "You don't even have the guts to face him."

"Who's the one not facing him…" He mumbles weakly under my grip. But before I can fully process his words he swings a glare at me, gripping onto my hand around his jacket. "You're the one who hasn't accepted the fact that Kyle's gonna die! After all these months, seeing him go weak every day! After all that, you still believe that Kyle's gonna live! But you know what, Marsh? He isn't. He's been diagnosed with a terminal illness. I know. I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. And you know what it says on the t-shirt? 'Death is definite'!"

He ends, panting, using up all this breath to shout out every single knot in his stomach.

"Fuck!" He gasps when his eyes begin to water. He falls back onto the snow, sliding out of my limp hand. But I don't protest; I've lost my strength and my voice. I haven't seen Kenny cry in years.

He rests his arm over his eyes, trying to cool himself down. I don't say anything, I don't even move. I can't help but stare at him. I've never thought how Kenny, or how any of the other were feeling over these few months. I guess I'm paying for that now. It makes me hate myself for saying this but, maybe, I've been forgetting that other people have feelings too.

We sit in the snow in silence for a few deep breaths, Kenny trying to relax and me waiting for him to feel comfortable. The snow keeps on falling, turning our surroundings into a monochrome night. We breathe out white air that dances into the dark, reminding us that we're still alive.

"Death was always standing side-by-side with me. It was so close to me that it made me think that death was a foreign matter" Kenny breaks the silence, not removing his arm from his eyes. "I didn't think that death would be so frightening. Not this frightening."

"Death is always frightening." But Kenny's right. Never this frightening…

"I have so many lives to spare… So why can't I give even one of them to Kyle?"

Kenny loses his calmness; the white air around him trembles. His body begins to shake aggressively, tears slide from under his arm hiding his eyes, tears of vexation and guilt. Guilt, from not visiting him as frequently as he thinks he should. Guilt, from not facing his dying body everyday like I do.

I wonder how I do it. Seeing Kyle weaken with every day that passes. I guess, I just can't miss a day without seeing him. No matter how pale his face turns, or how skinny his fingers become, I just want to be with him. I guess in the end, Kenny's right. I'm the one not facing Kyle's death.

x

Yesterday Kyle didn't wake up for the whole visit so I was aching all day today for school to end. The second the school bell announces the end of the day, I rush for the bus stop, thanking all goodness that I don't have training today.

"Kyle!" I sing, bouncing into his room. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I hear a soft chuckle welcome me in.

"Hey Stan." He smiles, but when I take my usual seat by his bed I notice another person standing on the other side, between the bed and the window.

"Hey Cartman." I say to the frowning opponent. He nods, or more like bounces his head, clearly annoyed at the fact I found him visiting Kyle.

I end my greeting with Cartman and look down at Kyle, to find his thick, pointy lips fall into a pout. "Why didn't you wake me up yesterday?"

I can't help but melt my lips into a smile at his words. I was expecting he'd say something like that. "You were sleeping."

"Yeah, that's why you're meant to wake me up, doucheward."

"You need your rest."

"I rest all day so that I can wake up for visiting hours…" He mumbles, making me smile again.

"It's Christmas soon isn't it?" He suddenly says.

"Yeah." I wonder why he cares about Christmas.

"Are you gonna go see your relatives?" He asks, assuming the answer. But I don't give it to him.

"No"

His lips drop into an instant frown. "Why not? You always do!"

"I- …don't feel like it this year. My parents already said that it's okay if I don't go." The air around us freezes as he grips his fingers around his bed sheets.

"You should go…" He whispers. I cross my eyebrows in confusion.

"Why?"

"Because it's what you always do!" He drowns his voice under a vicious cough. The painful sound makes me hate myself, because I can't do anything but sit there and watch, stroking his back gently until he calms down.

"Dude, I can't go anywhere. Not while you're like this." His cough slowly dies down into a calm silence. Not saying anything back to my words. I let my hand stroke his back for a second more, letting the warmth of his skin sink into my hand. Feeling his life.

We fall into a deep silence; maybe this is another routine. We sit there, without words, just feeling each other's presence. Until Kyle breaks the silence.

"Can you hold my hand?"

I almost dislocate my head swinging it up too fast. But he looks out the window, avoiding my gaze. Then I look back down, eyeing his hand that waits, shaking in its spot.

"Can I, hold your hand?" I ask him back.

"Yeah"

I don't ask a second time, just in case he changes his mind. My hand drops onto his, entwining our fingers together, desperate to warm his up; they're too cold for my liking.

"Stan, listen to me" He says, squeezing my hand tightly. "Remember how I tried to tell you something the other day?"

I remember it clearly.

"Well, I was trying to say…that" His hand shakes in my grip, even as I grip it as hard as I can.

"What is it?" My pulse begins to pump in my ears and Kenny's bad joke swifts through my head like a cold wind.

"I can feel it coming Stan…" His voice is heavy and firm, but soft at the same time. "I don't think I have much time left."

I can feel my eyes slowly begin to widen to the point that I feel cold air squeeze through my sockets. His voice repeats in my head like a broken record, my mind denying the meaning of the words. I don't notice his hand being crushed by my grip until his eye twitches in pain.

"No…" My voice shakes. "Don't say that Kyle, not you. You won't die, you can't die"

His face scrunches up in pain from my words. I know that what I'm saying is cruel, but I can't stop my mouth from moving. I fall to my knees, pressing my head against the sheets and holding his hand in mine, begging for him not to say those brutal words. Repeating the words 'Can't die' under my breath pathetically, I hurt him with each time I say them. My words turn into daggers and attack him, trying to rip off the part of him that is ready to die.

But deep down, I know that he's going to die. There's nothing I can do to stop him. I just don't want to accept the part of me that knows he will.

"I should probably go soon" I finally say, letting his hand slip out of my grip. My knees have turned numb from kneeling down for too long. But then again, my whole body feels numb, especially my head.

"Stan,"

"I won't…" I interrupt him as I slide the door open. "I won't say hi to Wendy."

When I turn back to face him, his emerald eyes are gazing hopelessly at me.

"Kyle, I don't love Wendy anymore. The only person I want to be with is you."

The door slides quietly to a close, parting us for another day. Everything inside me nearly bursts from frustration and self-hate, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to hold all of it in.

I suddenly feel another presence next to me and I notice that I had completely forgotten the existence of Eric Cartman.

"Why were you so silent today?" I ask the still-frowning Cartman.

"Just trying to hold my barf in watching you two faggots." He spits back.

A sigh escapes my mouth and I follow his fast feet heading out the hospital. I don't know, but he seems more pissed than usual. My feet wobble under me from exhaustion, struggling to keep up with Cartman's fast pace. I didn't even know that he could walk this fast.

White breath releases into the air the second we exit the building and Cartman finally comes to a stop.

"'Apparently people have two deaths. First, our own death, and then the second when we're forgotten by someone dear. If so, then I would never have a second death. Because he will never forget me, and I will live in him forever.'" I freeze at Cartman's sudden words, and look blankly at him who only gives me an irritated stare. "That's what Kyle told me. You know who he means, right?"

Kyle's weak smile flashes in my head. "Huh?"

He sighs in frustration and starts walking again, heading towards the near bus stop. He refuses to look at me even after we arrive at the stop, like he's sick of even looking at me.

"It's a phrase from a book apparently. I don't know where it came from."

The silence that follows is so heavy and dense that I almost choke on it. I get desperate to fill it in.

"You visit him a lot don't you?"

"Not as much as you, fag." He snarls. "But don't get me wrong. I only visit him because I wanna see him cry, beg for his life. But man, that little Jew is tough. I haven't seen him shed a tear yet."

I notice him staring at me, and I accidently meet his piercing eye.

"But the closest I've ever come to, is today. Dude, you can really say things that make his insides shatter like glass." He looks at me with complete hate, like he's ready to bang my head against the concrete, but he's just too tired to do it.

"What do you mean-"

"I mean you only think about yourself. You won't even enjoy the last moments of his life accepting the fact that they would be the last moments of his life. Accept it Marsh, and enjoy it. You owe the Jew that much."

His eyes drop shamefully, irritated towards himself for saying that to me. For him to say something like that must've taken up his whole pride. It must have been something that was building up in him agonisingly. I never knew.

"You've changed…" I gulp.

"No. You just haven't progressed." He grumbles back.

Everyone has changed over the past few months. Even me. My attitudes, behaviours and lifestyle have all changed no matter how small and unnoticeable it is. But Cartman's right, not in a progressive way.

The bus arrives, brushing past the quick snow. Suddenly, Kyle's hurt face appears at the back of my eyes, making his pain inflict onto me.

Why does everything I say hurt him? And why would I rather be with him saying those things, knowing that they'll hurt him? But Kyle, I just can't help it. Even if I hurt you from time to time, I want to feel your presence. Is that such a cruel thing?

x

"_Stan, we should stop it." The crickets made his voice disappear under their loud singing, but his actions led me to a stop. He let his hand slip out of my grip as he froze his feet on the ground. He stood limp on the bank of the lake, his red curls hung as a curtain over his eyes. _

"_Kyle? Stop what?" I asked him lightly, not expecting anything serious._

"_This!" He nearly shouted. "Sneaking out at night, holding hands, kissing, touching, _everything_!"_

_The words made him go out of breath, tears began to build up in his emerald eyes, shining off the bright moonlight. My brain stopped working for that small second, and I wish that I didn't ask the next question that I asked without thinking._

"_You mean you want to break up?" _

_He glared at the ground and squeezed his arm, refusing to meet my eye._

"_Yes."_

_His one word shocked the breath and voice out of me, only managing to let me squeeze out a small "Why?"_

"_Because…" He seemed like he was feeling physical pain from saying each word. Like each word was said by squeezing his throat against a fruit squeezer. _

_The brain-banging sound of crickets suddenly went to a complete silence. It made me believe for that moment that the time had stopped, and that we were the only two people on the planet, completely alone. And then he said it. _

"_Stan… I'm sick."_

Maybe my time had really stopped that day of five months ago.

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><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think, it would motivate me so much. And, man, I have no idea what genre this story is.<strong>

**BGM: Gekkou by Onitsuka Chihiro (orugoru ver.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N- Yay Chapter Two! School started and I'm all scared. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Two: All I want for Christmas is you.<span>_

"_Stan, I'm sorry, I was wrong!" She said to me, tears building up in her large, butterfly eyes. The tears that always sucked me in, the tears that I could never say 'no' to. "I promise I'll never leave you again, Stan! You're the only one for me!" _

_But even her desperate words, wrapped in a painfully shaking voice could not catch my full attention. Because in my hand, squeezed tightly, was Kyle's. _

"_Stan…" He whispered to me worryingly, but I didn't look at him. I kept my eyes on Wendy, wondering why I always went back to her. She suddenly seemed so distant and what I once saw in her had faded into a mystery._

_After letting a few more tears fall, Wendy noticed the connection between Kyle and me. I felt Kyle's hand trying to wiggle out of my grip but I didn't let him. I kept us steady; making sure Wendy was sinking in the scene, to let her smart brain process all the information._

_Then I gave her the answer. _

"_Wendy, it's over."_

x

"Wendy, can I talk to you for a minute?"

The girl turns her head in surprise, her ebony hair swimming through the snow-falling air like black silk. "Sure Stan."

I lead her to Stark's Pond, the water frozen and coated with a thick layer of white snow. No kids skating, no couples sitting, no families having fun. Completely deserted, as it usually is, its existence forgotten by the rest of South Park.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that the other day." I say to her, remembering the terrible things that I had said.

"It's okay." She says with her high voice. "I know that you're going through a lot."

A smile tinges the side of my mouth. Oh Wendy. Caring, gentle, beautiful Wendy. A smile returns to her lips, the bright smile that used to make my stomach twinge. She doesn't ask what I called her out for; she waits for me to bring it up. But my heart isn't ready and it feels like it won't be for a long time.

The winter wind rushing through the frozen surface of the pond sends a deep nostalgic feeling through us. We used to skate here as kids all the time, we used to go on dates here when we were still small. Maybe that was the best time of our lives, when nothing was complicated and the only obstacle in life was the pile of homework Mr. Garrison assigned to us. If only life was an hourglass that we could turn upside-down any time we wished.

"Kyle says hi."

"Huh?"

The first time I have granted Kyle's wish, and Wendy seems as equally surprised by my words as I am towards myself.

"He always asks me to send you his regards. But I always say no, because I know what he means when he asks me to. But really, I know. We are due in for a talk"

"I thought this would only take a minute?"

Oops. "Um, yeah, sorry, it might take a bit longer than that,"

"I'm joking," She chuckles softly. "Besides, we are due in for a talk." Her voice sings, just as it used to. It makes me believe that she hasn't changed since we were kids. But I know, everyone has changed, especially over the last few months.

We sit ourselves on the large rock sitting on the bank of the lake. It's where we can feel the wind most strongly, and it's where we always used to sit.

"It's strange…" She says to herself quietly.

"What is?"

She gives me a small smile. "I kind of know what you're going to say, but I'm not sad. I can't feel anything…" Then her eyes drop to her feet, dangling off the wood. My eyes follow her glance. "Do you remember when we ended?"

She says 'ended' because it's not only once or twice that we broke up.

"Yeah…"

A pause. "I thought we would always end up together. That no matter how many times we broke up, we would always come back together again." She breathes and looks up, her eyes dyeing in the colour of the sunset. "But when I saw you two holding hands, there was a part of me that thought 'finally'. I guess I was always suspecting you two would be together. And I thought that, when it happens, there wouldn't be any space between you two to fit anyone else. Even me. Even now, after you guys separated, that hasn't changed. Because you two still love each other."

I keep quiet, my mouth hang open, but unable to say anything. Listening to someone talk about your feelings like that is quite embarrassing. I can feel my cheeks warm up a bit.

"But I don't get it!" She suddenly bursts, making me shuffle in my spot. "If you guys still love each other so much, then why did you guys break up?" And she looks into my eyes, serious and firm, but it instantly drops to the ground. And whispers, "Why don't you stay together? At least until the end…"

'The end…' My heart jolts at that word, but I don't do or say anything to accuse her for saying it.

"I still want to be with him, but if he wants to separate, then…" A flash of memory floats through my head. Kyle's pain, his tightly clenched fists and the glowing moon reflected in his watering eyes. "And I know why he wanted to break up. And why he asks me to send you my greetings…"

"Why?" I notice that I was mostly talking to myself and feel Wendy's curious eyes staring at me.

"Because he's scared. He wanted to break up and then he wanted me to talk to you. So then, we might end up back together again. He's scared that he'll leave me all alone, because he's too kind. He did all that so I can move on after he's gone. But he doesn't notice, it's too late. I already love him so much, in all ways possible. I already can't live without him."

When I notice, I'm shaking in my own grip. Wrapping my arms around my head, desperate to keep my head from exploding and to hide my face from the girl sitting next to me. I can feel her gentle but sad eyes on me, gentle, but it feels piercing.

"It's so cruel isn't it? No matter how much it hurts, people can't die from sadness." Wendy mutters. "Even you Stan, you'll live. No matter what happens. You'll see."

"…I guess. But unlike Kyle, I don't want to make any plans for after he's gone. My imagination isn't good. I can't imagine what it would be like without him."

The lake, trees, snow, mountain, all dye in the burning red of the sunset. I really like that colour, but it always burns out too quickly.

x

"Hey Kyle." But no voice welcomes me in. He's asleep again. "Sorry there's no one else with me today. It's been hard to contact either of them since the holidays started. They both seem to be away every time I go to their house."

But to tell the truth, I like visiting Kyle alone more than anything. With no one else in this pale white room I can have all of Kyle to myself. No matter how awful that may sound.

His red eyelashes rest on his eyes lightly; there isn't a tension in his face. Every inch of his body seems to be released into complete relaxation, not a twitch, not a sound. He lies there like a statue carved out of marble, white, still and silent. If I only gave him a quick glance it would be hard to tell if he's alive at all. The sound of the machines beeping to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the slight warmness of his hand are the only things that tell me that he's still alive.

"My parents are leaving today, they won't be back 'till the day after tomorrow. I remember what you asked me, but I'm not going." I imagine him complaining to me at this point. "I always listened to your favours. Let me have it my way just this once." I smile then see him give up with a small pout. In reality, he's still asleep.

I wonder if he's going to sleep through the whole session. He needs his sleep, I know, I keep telling myself that. I bet he'll get mad again if I don't wake him up, although I won't.

"I talked to Wendy yesterday, like you wanted me to. I know you were intending me to get back with her or something, but I didn't talk with her for that. Actually, it's quite the opposite of that. We talked, and now everything is in the past. We are friends now, but I feel like the small knots holding us together have completely untangled and separated away."

He doesn't say anything. Of course, he's asleep, and part of me is relieved about that. I let out a small breath.

"Look, I should go now, my parents would be leaving soon. But I'll come back tomorrow and wish you a merry Christmas." I can see him scoff at me and I laugh quietly, careful not to wake him, even though I'm dying to hear his voice.

"See ya." I squeeze his hand before letting go. But suddenly, everything in me piles into a large wave of emotions. Unexplainable sadness, vanity, and want, overwhelming need for him.

My hand brushes his cheek, the warmness that was in his skin a second ago seems to have turned into ice. And I press my lips against his still ones, carefully, but firmly, because he feels like he might shatter into a million pieces. It's as though I'm kissing a statue, but everything is there, Kyle's there. A sudden thought tells me that even if he were awake, he wouldn't have refused my kiss. And that in that alone, would have been a sad thing.

"Bye." I tell him and make my way out the door. No voice that would stop me. Our routine has completely ended.

x

I hear the sound of the car door shut and I run down the stairs.

"Stan, we're leaving!" My mum calls.

"Okay" I return, bringing myself to a break by crashing against the front door. I'm six-feet, not exactly mucho-man, but trained, and I am in the last year of high school, yet she still eyes me worryingly as if I'm a baby.

"Are you sure you're okay to stay here all by yourself? I mean, we don't have to go…"

"No it's okay, you go! How old do you think I am anyway?" I interrupt her. She points her finger against her chin and thinks for a second.

"Um, I don't know… seven?"

"_Teen_ mum. Seven-_teen_" I exaggerate.

"Seven, seventeen, what's the difference?" But she chuckles and slides into the car. "Call us if anything goes wrong, okay? Merry Christmas! Love you!"

"Bye Stan!" My father waves with a stupid smile.

Watching the car pull out of the driveway, I mutter a couple 'yeah's under my breath and shut the door, noticing how silent the house has become. No friends and no family. Six hours to Christmas and I feel like I haven't been so alone in my whole life.

I turn the radio on to fill in the eerie silence but all they're playing are stupid Christmas songs. I take a random pick, they're all the same anyway, and crush onto the couch, exhausted. When I hear the radio playing 'All I want for Christmas is you' I scoff to myself and roll over. How unimaginative…

It doesn't take me until the end of the song to fall asleep.

I'm waken up by the tearing sound of the phone ringing not an hour later. The radio is playing 'Silent Night' now. The soft, calming sound nearly sends me into another sleep, but the phone rings into my ears again. I groan and roll off the couch, heading for the phone, desperate to stop that banging noise.

"Hello?" I mumble into the speaker.

"Stan? Is this Stan Marsh?" A high, shaky voice with an accent that pulls the top of my nose calls from the phone.

"Yeah, this is Stan. What is it Mrs. Broflovski?" I say trying to hide my sleepy tone. But all I hear is silence, then some shaky breathing and an aggressive hiccup. She seems to be under immense grief, not even being able to talk. Which only leads to one thing. Sleepiness instantly disappears under my sudden freeze. Worry overcomes me, and I feel like my insides have been replaces with ice. "Mrs. Broflovski! What's wrong? What's happened?" I plead.

"It's Kyle…" She squeezes out, agonisingly. "…You should come to the hospital, quickly. He might, not be long"

The phone slips out of my hand and hits the ground with a large thud. But I don't stop to put it back in its place. My feet have already headed out the front door with full speed; the sound of 'Holy Night' fades away as the door shuts behind me. I don't even bother to lock the house.

"Fuck!" I just notice the time and find out that the next bus won't be until tomorrow morning. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…" How long is 'not long'? Damn it. How long would it take me to sprint up to the hospital? An hour? Two? Fuck! But I guess it's the only choice I have.

"GOD DAMN IT!" I shout and take off. But just as I start my feet, a car suddenly pulls over in front of me, nearly crushing me on the way. I stop frozen in shock, noticing whose car it is and stare at the window rolling down.

"Get in the car douchebag" A familiar face says, a face that I've been looking for the last few days.

"Cartman?"

"Just get in the fucking car Marsh!" Another voice roars through the window, pushing past the chubby driver. Another person I've been looking for. "HURRY UP STAN!" Kenny's scream instantly breaks my freeze and I jump into the back seat.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Picking you up, stupid asshole."

Cartman hisses, and that's enough for me. I can't think anything through right now. My whole mind is on the dying boy lying in his hospital bed.

'Silent Night' still rings through my head endlessly as I look out the window, watching the car push through the aggressive snow.

"Come on Kyle…"

x

_He shook his head in complete refusal. _

"_No, nope, nuh-ah."_

"_Why not?" I asked him, honestly confused. But he shot his emerald eyes at me as if I was a complete and utter idiot._

"_Dude, seriously? I'm not going to stay in hospital for the rest of my life." _

"_Why not?" Cartman mocked. "It's not like you have a long life ahead of you anyway."_

"_Shut up Cartman or you'll be dead before me!" Kyle snarled back. But my stomach flipped at Cartman's words._

"_Don't say that dude. It's not like Kyle dying is a hundred percent yet." Kyle froze his fist in the air that was aiming for Cartman and fell into a still silence. Come to think about it, it was always me who was the stupid one. _

"_But Kyle, didn't the doctors advise you to?" Kenny suggested, more so as a statement than an advise coming from worry._

"…_Whatever you say, I'm not going to the hospital." Kyle said. "I'd rather die in a basketball game than in between the sheets of a hospital bed."_

_I never thought that it would be that easy, but I think Kyle knew even better than me. _

_A few months later, Kyle moved into the hospital. When I asked him why he just grinned and said that I had to be grateful for him listening to my words. But I knew why._

_The way people treated him at home and at school were as if he was already shattered glass. He'd rather have been at hospital alone than to be forcing people around him to act nice and sensitive and to watch all their worried faces. I bet that's how Kyle felt. If he was at hospital only seeing the limited amount of people that wanted to see him, then he could put all his energy it on that small amount of time to act his most lively. But even that didn't last forever._

_Maybe all it ever did was take our time away from Kyle. Or could it be that that is what he wanted?_

_I guess he never knew that too much kindness could hurt someone._

x

We all practically tumble out of the car, ignoring the voices screaming that we couldn't park here, wherever we just parked. All three of us are blinded; we can only see one thing.

"Kyle!" We all yell, barging into the small room at the end of the third floor. But the only thing that welcomes us in are piecing eyes and the sound of large sniffing. There are already four people in the room before us: Mr and Mrs Broflovski, Ike and Kyle. Kyle, with machines breathing for him, as if he couldn't breathe for himself.

Finally for the first time, I understand that he's dying.

"_What happened Mrs. Broflovski?"_ Kenny's voice echoes around me.

"_What's wrong with Kyle?"_ Time moves around me.

"_I don't know but- It's the doctors, they… said that, Kyle doesn't have much time left and…" _Ike's crying. That's strange. I don't remember the last time I've heard him cry; he's always so mature for his age…

"_Did you hear that Stan?"_ Someone calls me, I wonder who…

"Stan!" When I notice, Kenny is shaking me back to reality. "Did you just hear that Stan?"

"Hear what?" I ask him, taking my eyes off Kyle to stare into his. But he ducks his head to avoid my eyes, his hands gripping onto my shoulders.

"Kyle…" He gulps. "Kyle probably won't survive the night…"

My lungs stop. The time stops. But when I look at Kyle I see his breath spread into his mask, disappear, and spread again. It feels like he's the only one in the room with the time still moving, leaving the rest of us behind.

Kenny tumbles a few steps backwards as I push his hands off my shoulders. "No…" My feet move towards the boy lying on the bed. "No…" My feet wobble and I steady myself quickly onto the side of the bed, looking into Kyle's sleeping face. Sleeping?

"Kyle, come on, wake up." But the boy doesn't wake. "They're lying, right Kyle? Wake up." My hand grips his arm but he doesn't respond. Someone whispers my name behind me but I ignore it. "Come on Kyle! Wake up! Wake up!" I scream, shaking his arm. Someone yells my name behind me but I still ignore it, instead I continue to shout at Kyle. But even my vision of him begins to blur.

Finally, someone grabs me from the back and separates me from Kyle, not letting me shake him violently anymore. But I squirm in the grip trying to get closer to Kyle, still shouting his name.

"Stop it Stan! He can't hear you!" With those words my body falls to an instant stop, dangling from my arms, gaping at the sleeping boy lying in front of me. He looks so peaceful, he's still breathing, he is only asleep.

"No…" He's still alive.

I rip the person off my back and run out the room, ignoring the voices calling my name. He's still alive, he only needs help. There must be help.

I stumble out the hospital remembering there aren't any more buses until tomorrow. Three hours to Christmas. I can't drive, and I don't want to waste time on going back to ask Cartman for a drive. Then I have only one choice: run.

Don't think about how long it would take. Just listen to your breath, keep your muscles moving, feel the cold wind on your face and run Stan, _run_.

The steep hill makes me lose control of my speed; the only way for me to stop now would be to crush into something or wait for the hill to become flat. Either way, I can't stop until I reach South Park.

I can't feel the time pass, but I slowly feel my body beginning to break down. My muscles scream, the soles of my feet feel like they're wearing off. My lungs are about to explode and my throat feels like it's becoming to rust. My whole body feels like it's shutting down but the only thing I can do is run, run for his life. I can't see anything, I lost my eyesight in the wind ages ago, and there's an agonising ringing sound in my ears. But all I do is run, until I stumble over a dent in the road.

"Ahh…" I hiss in pain, feeling my skin turning cold, but burn at the same time. But there's no time to rest. I punch the ground and lift myself up, groaning a bit, but let out a sigh of relief when I see the sign just above my head labelled 'South Park'.

I've arrived! Finally! Thank god, now I can…

…What? What can I do now? Find help. From whom? What can possibly save Kyle now? What did I ever think could save Kyle now?

"Ha…!" An airy laugh escapes my throat.

I've barged out of the hospital and ran down the mountains, forcing my body to move until near-breakdown. And for what? To keep myself from looking at Kyle, to avoid watching him take his last breath? Even at the very end, all I was doing was running away from him?

The snow dances around me in a mocking away, as if to tell me how pathetic I am. And I know. My hand grips onto a pile of snow with nowhere else to point its rage.

"FUCK!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but my voice disappears under the sound of the roaring wind. I finally taste the bitterness of despair. Bitterness? That's an understatement. It's like draining acid down dry, feeling my throat and insides burn like lava. And the fact that I can't even hear my own screams and cries makes it worse. The only thing that can save Kyle now, is someone who could bring the dead back to life.

_Someone like…_

_Wait- back from the dead? _

I swing my head up in realisation.

…_That's it._

The strength in my grip flows away, letting the melted snow leak through the gap between my fingers. My legs straighten up and I rise into the air. Knowing my destination, my legs begin to move, and slowly turn into a sprint.

There are two people in South Park who have risen from the death. One being Kenny, who is practically immortal, but everyone knows that's because his parents entered a weird cult when he was a baby. The question is the second person. He suddenly came back one day and no one even asked him how he did it. If he told me how he came back, then maybe that would be a chance for me to save Kyle…

And I run.

x

"Come on open up!" I bang my fist against the door, nearly breaking through the wood. "I know you're in there! Open the door!" I shout, knowing that it would only be scaring him. But I can't control myself properly. "Please…" I plead, losing my last strength and sliding to the ground. "Please… I need you…"

A sudden 'crack' comes from the door, the sound of the door unlocking. Then it slowly creaks open, the wood sliding away from my fists.

"Oh why, Stan… What has brought you here? You seem awfully stressed and-"

"Pip!" I call to the blond when his itchy accent enters my ears and grab onto his shoulders, nearly tackling him to the ground with the force.

"Good Lord!" He gasps. "Oh Stan, please calm down, and do tell me what has happened! If you tell me, I'll do my best to help-"

"It's Kyle-" I breathe, not even sure if he knows Kyle and my relationship. Either way, he nods for me to continue. "They say that he's going to die tonight."

"Oh, dear!" He says, surprised, but at least he remembers who 'Kyle' is and it also seems like he found out what I'm here for. I hug tightly onto the English boy and beg, something I never even imagined myself doing to him. He seems like he lost his voice at my behaviour, but he rubs my back as if to cheer me up and unties me off of him, trying to calm me down.

"Well, you know…" He says quietly. "You could always ask Damien."

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Yay, Damien! Thanks for reading! (If there is anyone I guess). And I am so excited about Damien… and Kyle…(Sorry Stan!) <strong>

**Anyway, thanks again!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N- Update! Thank you so so much for reviews! They motivate me so much to write, they truly do. I suddenly came up with this new plot and I really couldn't make up my mind whether to use it or not since it kind of… changes everything. But I chose, and now I have a plan! Yay!**

**Anyway, chapter three. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Three: Deal or No Deal.<span>_

The wind takes the chance of the frozen silence to rush past us and send snow into the small house. It roars angrily, as if to tell us to hurry up. Pip looks troubled by the intimidating wind but stays silent until I open my mouth.

"Damien?" I ask.

"Yes." He says.

"The son of the Devil?" I ask.

"Yes." He says.

I stare at him, disbelievingly. But honestly, the son of the Devil? Why would he ever help anyone? Apparently my confusion shows openly on my face. Pip purses his lips and knots his eyebrows together as if wondering how to explain the Devil's _kind_ heart to me.

"Stan, I know it's hard to believe that the son of the Devil would save anyone's life… But Damien is not a bad person."

"Didn't he blow you up like a firework?"

He narrows his eyes at me for a short second but soon swims his gaze around, puzzled.

"Well, that was a long time ago. And he _did_ save my life, god knows why…" He shakes his head as if to refresh himself. "Look, the point is he has the power to do amazing things, he showed that when he brought me back to life. If you really want to save Kyle's life, then he may be your only chance."

I'm nearly overwhelmed by Pip's sudden change of character. His hand holds onto my shoulder reassuringly, there's strength in his voice that I've never heard before. It only makes me fully realise how utterly lost, powerless and desperate I really am to save Kyle.

Damien, the Devil's son… My only choice…

"How do I meet him?" I whisper.

He smiles and gives my shoulder a tight squeeze before tumbling back into his house. For a second I hear sounds of crashing objects, gasps and books falling from high places, until he tumbles back out with a leather-bound book in his hand.

"Here…" He huffs, handing me the book as if he just won it from a war. "It says how to call him"

The book sinks into my hand, much more heavier than I was expecting it to be. To be honest I don't like the leather. Thick, cold leather, the colour hard to determine if it's meant to be red or black; I don't like my own explanation, but it looks like the colour of dried blood, only much darker. But it's the book of the Devil, what am I supposed to expect? I open up the book quickly, not even looking at the design of the cover or the book title, there was some sort of star-like symbol drawn on it, but I don't even want to know what that's meant to be. I flip through the pages swiftly and feel my jaw begin to loosen. Pip notices my confused expression and pops his head over my shoulder to look inside the pages.

"What's wrong? Can't you read Latin?"

I glare at him, feeling unexplainable humiliation. He ducks his head away from me, panicked, and raises his hands in the air to surrender.

"I'm deeply sorry if I offended you! I didn't know that you couldn't read Latin! Um… Oh my, this is a problem… Um… Oh yes!"

A light suddenly switches on in his brain and he rushes back into his house, crashing and breaking on his way again by the sound of things.

"I forgot I had this…" He squeezes, again coming back from a fight.

I receive the piece of paper tucked in his hand, having no idea of what it might be. When I unfold it, my heart feels like it shrivels up from the sudden chill I get from the symbol drawn on it. It is some sort of star, similar to the one on the book cover, encaged by a number of circles surrounded by weird symbols and random alphabets I guess are meant to be Latin. But what really creeps me out and sends a chill down my spine is the deep red it's drawn with. I hold my fist against my lips, trying to hold in the vile feeling that begins to swim in my stomach.

"Is this-"

"Blood? Yes, it's Damien's blood." He says nonchalantly. "Apparently this is a shortcut to summoning him, but I never use it. I don't summon him _that_ often…" His eyes swim away, but he shakes them back onto me. "Yes… This will summon him. All you need to do is light the middle of the pentacle with a match, remember to have the pentacle reversed, and say 'Damien, I wish for you to appear before me' or something like that…" He explains it like cooking directions, but his voice trails off subtly at the end under the howling wind, unconfident with his own words.

I stare at him worryingly. "Are you sure?"

He shrugs. "Yes, that should be fine... Just remember to call his name, that's the most important part."

I take a look of the paper lying menacingly in my hand. If this is the only choice I have, then there is no need for second thoughts. My fist clenches the paper.

"Thanks Pip."

He smiles. "My pleasure."

I take off his stairs and dig my feet into the snow, remembering that I forgot one thing.

"Pip… Do you have any matches I could borrow?"

x

The snow has turned into a complete blizzard and I know for sure that it would take me the whole night to get back to the hospital. One hour to Christmas. I don't know for sure, but something keeps on telling me that that is the amount of time I have left, or the amount of time Kyle has left.

I give up and let my knees fall onto the snow and dig my hands into the white coldness. If I don't have enough time to go back to the hospital and summon Damien there, then I'll have to do it here. My hands search through the snow, ignoring the numbing coldness until I find what I am looking for. "Ah-ha!" I dig my hands out of the snow, holding two heavy rocks. They should be fine.

I grab the piece of paper Pip gave me out of my pocket and place it on the ground, securing it with my knee until I rest the two rocks on its edges. Okay. But in this blizzard I feel anxious whether I can actually light the paper up with a match. I curl myself up into a ball over the paper, an attempt to block out the wind. My hands fiddle for the matches, shaking from the cold and from nervousness. I break the first match from too much pressure, but with a massive amount of patience and a pile of dead matches, I finally succeed in lighting one up.

"Come on…" Digging my knees closer against my elbows, making sure no wind leaks through and blows the small fire out, I carefully bring the match towards the centre of the reversed star.

The edge of the match barely touches the paper's surface before the whole thing lights up like a firework. The fire traces the red lines drawn with blood as if it was a fuse. I jump up in surprise and in fear that I might catch fire and take a couple steps back, taking a good look at the burning paper. A breath escapes my mouth, amazed at the sight.

In the stormy night, settled on the white snow, the fire burning in the shape of the dark symbol looks like a birthday cake waiting in the dark for a celebration. Even the deathly wind doesn't seem to have any effect on the glowing fire. But no matter how bright it shines the paper doesn't seem to wear out and turn to ash. No… If I look closely I can see that the paper isn't burning at all, but there is a thin layer of nothingness between the fire and the paper. But there's no time for wondering or for investigation. Just remember Pip's instructions and call the fucking antichrist.

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes.

"Damien, I wish for you to appear before me…"

Silence follows. I peak out of my eye and see if anything has appeared. Nope. Nothing. I followed Pip's words just in case but he was pretty uncertain about the summoning. Maybe I should try something else, before I freeze to death in this blizzard.

"Oh mighty devil please show yourself." My tone turns a little sarcastic, but still nothing happens. "Damien, I summon you to this earth. Oh your mighty highness I beg you to come forth." The tension in my body disappears and I dangle my arms by my side in annoyance and disappointment. "Come on Damien will you just come out here, please?" Still nothing, and I'm running out of words to say. My patience and anxiety reaches the limit and I scream at the top of my lungs.

"GODDAMN IT DAMIEN WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!"

"Behind you."

My heart stops at the dark voice and I swing myself around in surprise. There, standing right behind me, is the son of the Devil. His pale skin wrapped in dead black, his emotionless face framed with raven hair. White and black is all I see on him. White and black, and the piercing red irises glowing in the dark.

I look back and forth between him and the paper still burning behind me. "What- how did you… Did it work?"

He raises his menacing eyebrows at me. "Your summoning? No, unfortunately. Pip just called me telling me that he forgot to tell you one last thing…" He walks around me, looking down at the burning paper. He raises his white hand, fingers long and thin with his nails dipped in jet-black. His fingers curl into a ball, and with that, the fire shrinks and disappears as well. "You have to summon me in Latin." His lips curl into an invisible smile.

My cheeks tinge with warmth from embarrassment and I point at him accusingly. "If it didn't work then how did you… wait, Pip called you? Called?"

"Yes." He slips out a mobile phone from under his sleeve. "Called."

I lose my voice trying to say a million things at once, but give up and pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers instead. The Devil's son carrying a mobile? Yeah, that makes sense.

"That's enough playing around." The dark voice says pulling me out of my thoughts. I meet his red eyes and feel something get stuck in my throat. The red in his eyes seem like they're blazing darker than it was before. "I know why you called me Stan Marsh."

"Did Pip tell you?"

He smirks. "No. I know why Marsh because I have been waiting for a long time for you to call me. I must say, it took you much longer than I was expecting. Right at the last minute…" He shakes his head to himself.

"What do you mean?" I manage out, completely confused by his words. He looks up, eyes me with those piercing reds again, and comes right up to me in a quick instant.

"That doesn't matter for now." He breathes. "What matters is that I can save Kyle Broflovski. Am I wrong?"

I feel like I'm knocked on the head. "Yeah! You can? Oh thank god!"

"No. Thank me." He mumbles. "But we should go. We don't have much time."

"How are we going to go though?" I suddenly remember why I tried to summon him in the middle of the snow in the first place. "There's no way for transport, it's practically a snow storm and it would take hours to reach the hospital!"

He moves around me as if to ignore my words and holds me by my armpits.

"I have a way." He says. "Close your eyes."

Before I know it, my vision is lost into complete darkness. I feel the ground disappear from under me and it feels as though I'm floating in the air. Before I can let out a voice the wind suddenly attacks me like daggers, sending a numbing pain through my whole body, except for my back where Damien secures me in the cold wind.

A few agonising minutes later, the wind begins to calm into its original strength and I feel my feet touch the ground.

"What the fuck was that?" I ask the Devil letting go of me. "I didn't know you could fly."

"Fly?" He eyes me weirdly, but stays silent and walks past. I follow his steps and notice the large white building standing in front of us, glowing in the night. My eyes naturally swim to the room on the far end of the third floor. The light still seems to be on. "Hurry Stan Marsh!" He brings me out of my daze and I follow him into the hospital.

x

"Why is it so quiet?" I breathe, listening to the sound of my own echoing footsteps.

"Because no one's here." Damien answers tonelessly as if it's the most normal thing. But I find that strange.

"_Someone_ has to be here. It's the friggin' hospital. And besides Kyle's family and Cartman and Kenny are here…" But he doesn't seem to be listening to my words so I shut my mouth up and keep on listening to the echoing footsteps.

In horror movies they often show deserted hospitals in the middle of the night and I normally nearly faint from fear watching them. But actually experiencing a lonely hospital isn't that frightening. Or maybe having the son of the Devil nearby makes me feel like there's nothing to be afraid of.

But this devil, if you only give him a quick glance, looks nothing more than your average teenager. Sure his skin is pale without a single freckle, but people would say nothing more than "He needs to go outside and play under the sun". Yeah, he's wrapped in black, but what's wrong with a plain black turtleneck and matching pants? Not mentioning his black shoes, black scarf, black hair and black nails. People would only say that he's an unadventurous Goth or something. The only features of him that people would rub their eyes for a second glance would be his slightly pointy ears, slightly pointy teeth, and his charcoal eyes that seem to glow in a fiery red on sudden occasions (of cause it has to be the viewer's mind playing tricks though, obviously).

"What?" He calls coldly, making me notice how my eyes have been drilling holes into the back of his head. I shake my head, unable to say a word, and to that he blinks his narrowed eyes and begins to walk again. I let out a sigh.

Our feet finally reach the third floor, this floor as silent as the others. That's strange. I was expecting that I would be able to hear quiet moaning and sniffing of Kyle's room from around here, but all that can be heard is our feet kicking the floor, Damien's black heels a little more louder than my squashed chucks.

The lights that lead towards the end of the corridor to where Kyle's room is are only dimly lit; showing our clear destination of the only room lit on the third floor, light leaking through the gaps of his door. Our footsteps stop echoing when we reach the door, until Damien swings it open, not caring on making a dramatic entrance. I follow him inside, hiding behind his smaller back; waiting for the piercing eyes of Cartman, Kenny and the Broflovski's to shoot this way. But I don't feel anything.

I peek out of Damien's shadows from confusion, wondering why Damien's entrance is left uncommented. But then I find out: no one's in here, except for the unconscious Kyle lying in his white sheets.

"I told you, no one's here." Damien says before I can produce any words through my frozen mouth.

"But why aren't Kyle's family here? And Cartman, and Kenny!" Surely they wouldn't have left dying Kyle's side. But Damien only shrugs my words off as if I was talking complete nonsense.

He ignores my completely confused gaze and walks to the side of Kyle's bed, staring into the sleeping boy. My hear stops. His white hand rises from his side and swims towards Kyle's face, his black eyes suddenly burning with red flame.

"What are you-" I panic at the sudden passion burning in his eyes; his hand seems to me like a deadly dagger aiming for his throat. I kick my heels and head towards the devil, aggressively grabbing onto the sleeve of his shoulder just as his hand shoots for Kyle.

But his pale hand doesn't cut through Kyle's thin neck. No blood dyes the white sheets. Damien's hand rests on Kyle cheek, caressing the soft skin with his thumb and swaying through the red curls of his hair with his fingers. The tension in me releases with relief, but it instantly comes back when I notice what he's doing.

"What are you doing?" I shake, gripping tightly onto his sleeve. But he ignores me, keeping his gaze on Kyle, strong longing hiding in his menacing eyes. An ugly feeling begins to bubble in my stomach and I grab his hand away from Kyle's cheek. "Stop that!"

He looks at me confused, as if he just remembered that I was here. "Why?"

"I don't know… I just don't like it." I mumble. He smirks.

"Jealousy."

"Shut up!"

But he ignores me again, returning his gaze back to Kyle, watching him breathe into his mask over and over again.

"Don't worry…" He murmurs. Then he brings his gaze back to face me. "I can fix him."

He's so random with his statements it's hard for my brain to keep up with him. But all my doubts for him instantly disappear and he suddenly seems like an angel to me.

"That's great! So um, when would you do it?"

His mouth slowly creeps into a smile, and not a soft, caring smile of that. It makes my vision of his angelic existence slightly blur into something darker.

"You do understand that I am not here to grant you any wishes." He states.

"Huh?" My vision of his angelic aura slowly dissolves into something dark and grim. It reminds me that he is no angel at all, but the devil.

"I am here to make a deal with you Stan Marsh." He sneers. "In exchange of Kyle Broflovski's life."

My insides suddenly gain a few pounds and all sink to the bottom of my body. The desperation that I had forgotten for the last half an hour comes back again.

"Anything!" I turn him to face me and put both hands on his shoulders. "I'll do anything! Just please save Kyle!"

His smile drops and everything in him suddenly turns firm, the simmering red darkening into its usual black, serious and challenging.

"In exchange of Kyle Broflovski's life…" He begins; the tension extends to my lungs and it makes it impossible to breathe. "I want him."

My brain crashes for a second. "What?"

His eyes pierce into mine but I only stare at him blankly.

"I said that I want to use his body."

"What, like, possess him? Like in movies?"

He blinks, annoyed. "I don't know what movies you are referring to, but if that means to get inside him like another mind and take complete control of his body then- yes."

I can't believe what he's saying. He can't be serious. "So you are going to save him, only so that you can go into him and use his body freely?" He remains silent and I take that as a 'yes'. "How's that any different from killing him!"

"He won't be dead." He says calmly. "He would be alive inside. It would be like having two minds in one body, only that I would have complete dominance. And I'm not saying that I want to be inside him forever. Only for a while."

The calmer his voice becomes seems to be the more angrier I become. Kyle would be awake inside him? That's even worse! It means that he would know every single thing Damien does with his body, and god knows what that would be.

"What do you mean 'for a while'? How long's that?"

Damien lets out a small sigh and rolls his eyes as if imagining how long he would be inside Kyle for. "A year, or two maybe. Until I have matured and become of age."

Two years… With Damien inside Kyle's body?

Despite the coolness of the temperature I feel sweat forming on the back of my neck.

"… Why? Why Kyle?" I breathe, my confusion and desire to avoid this situation almost brings me into a complete daze. But it doesn't work. I can't seem to escape this reality. So I ask him, desperately, a question that won't change a thing.

"It is not a great reason. Being Jewish, he is one of the only people who hasn't been baptised in South Park. That makes it much easier for me to 'possess' him."

I bite my lip, still thinking of ways to make him reconsider possessing Kyle.

"Can't you choose someone from somewhere else? Like, outside of South Park?"

"That's impossible." He instantly says, almost cutting into my words. "I can't get out of South Park, and even if I could, I can't stay on the earth for more than a couple of hours."

"Why not?"

His eyes narrow in annoyance again. "It is the work of my father, I'm not exactly sure of what it is. A seal, or some sort of spell. Either way, I don't have enough time on earth to even find out what that is."

My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, but no words come out. I'm stuck. And I can't say anything, knowing that I have reached an unavoidable wall. No more questions, no more reasoning. All I have left to say now is my answer.

Damien turns his gaze on me again, his eyes blazing, the colour of red returning to his eyes.

"So. What is it?"

I give Kyle one last glance; sink in every detail on his frame. Listen to him breathe.

x

_He asked me the question half a year ago._

"_What do you think your life would be like without me?" _

"_Huh?"_

_I looked at him blankly, half a sandwich stuck in my mouth. I met his emerald eyes, but there was no laughter in there, they weren't depressed or heavy either. No, it was as if he was trying to hide all emotion and make it a casual question. But I saw the seriousness in his eyes and I pulled the sandwich out of my mouth. _

"_What do you mean, like, if you moved far away or something?" I asked, confused._

"_No, then there would still be ways of communication. More like, completely out of your life." He expressed with hand gestures, which brought my attention to his movements and off his face. _

"_What so, like, if you died?" I joked, taking another bite of my lunch. But he nodded, and my chewing slowly went to a halt. _

"_Yeah, something like that… Just, if I didn't exist in your life."_

_Now he was avoiding my eyes. He tucked his knees against his chest and wrapped his hands around the sole of his shoes, rocking slightly like a child. Maybe I should have just left it there, but I thought for an answer, but to think of it realistically was a big challenge for me._

"_I don't know." I said, useless answer. But I continued. "I guess my life would have changed dramatically. I mean you have influenced my actions so many times that I don't think I would even be me." _

_His rocking stopped, and he gave me a quick glance, his pink lips slightly tensed. I was pretty satisfied with my answer, mainly because despite it making me feel embarrassed, I said my honest feelings. But there were still things that I kept inside myself, more embarrassing things that I now think that I should have said. He turned back and stayed in his small ball, avoiding my gaze._

"_I don't think that'll be the case." He whispered, just loud enough so that I could hear him. Time passed as a soft wind blew through us, but I kept silent. "I don't think your life would change much Stan, even without me. Instead of me you'll have another best friend. Instead of me you would have a girlfriend- or a boyfriend. Instead of me you would have a replacement and you would live your normal life."_

_My lips stayed parted in disbelief. For the first time in my life, I thought Kyle Broflovski was a complete idiot. And I said to him what was to me, and still is, the simplest thing in the world._

"_But Kyle, there isn't anything that could ever replace you."_

x

My eyes open, returning to the present reality, where the air is colder, the sound is hollow, the devil is waiting for my reply and Kyle is still lying on his bed, dying.

So Stan, what would it be?

Deal, or no deal.

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><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading! Finally this story is going somewhere. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N- Thank you so much for your reviews! They motivate me so much. So, here's a longish chapter in return! I was thinking in making this two chapters but I thought what the heck.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Four: Wishing On The Same Moon. <span>_

I can feel my heart beat against my ribcage, but my blood feels like it has stopped flowing through my body. I go numb and cold, watching Kyle lying peacefully in his hospital bed, unaware that his fate now lies in my hands. In my right I have his death, what he has been expecting and preparing for the last half a year. In my left I have his life, in exchange of selling his body to the Devil's son.

What are you planning to do with him Damien? Would you commit crimes with his body? Would you engrave scars onto his body? Would you cause him to feel pain, agony, hatred and sorrow? And am I the one who has to give you that permission? To sell Kyle's body to you in order to save his life; but do I even have that right?

I always thought that being Super Best Friends with him, and loving him more than anyone else in the world, would make my body practically his, and make his body practically mine. And because of that, I believe that anything we do to each other would be forgiven in the end. But this…

My eyes stare at Kyle, still breathing into his mask. Air, air. But his breathing somehow sounds different to me now. His air seems to echo inside me. It's as though each breath he takes is a countdown. But I don't feel anything. My desperateness has turned my mind numb.

I take in his peaceful figure one last time. His soft scarlet rings of hair. His pointy cat-like lips that is so pink and surprisingly soft. His long, yet barely visible eyelashes sewed together, hiding his twinkling emerald eyes. Everything about him seems so perfect. The pureness and innocence. To even imagine Damien swimming freely inside him makes me want to choke the antichrist standing next to me.

No… I can't do it. I can't sell Kyle. Not to him, not to anyone.

"No…" My mouth voices the words forming in my head. "Not this. Not Kyle's body. Not this…"

The thin pipes in my throat all close up and my lungs turn to ice, but the fact that I can't distract myself with that pain is even more agonising than not being able to breathe. I have nothing else to do, so I keep my eyes on Kyle, my mind long since left reality.

"So, no deal then…" Cold wind sways past, carrying the quiet, icy voice to me, waking my numb mind up, and bringing me back to reality. I feel my arms and legs, my eyes and my ears, and my brain begin to function again, sinking in Damien's words and hearing the sound of his clicking black heels.

"Huh?" When I turn around, the door is wide open and Damien stands there, his hand on the white wall.

"It's a pity about Kyle..." His cold last words seem somehow sincere.

He lifts his foot to take a step forward; his pale hand slowly slides down the white wall. He's about to leave this room. His movements play in slow motion in my head, as if it's giving me time to reconsider my decision. The moment he takes that step, he would be in another world and I would lose my last chance to save Kyle and he would most certainly die. Kyle.

"Wait," A voice whispers. Damien's foot pauses in mid air, and he slowly takes it down back into the room, turning his body to face me. It was my voice that whispered.

"You can't just leave him here dying! He's gonna die in a matter of hours!" My whisper develops into a sudden yell, desperate to keep him from leaving the room. But he glares at me, eyes dark like obsidian.

"I believe I told you Stan Marsh that I'm not here for any favours. I'm here to make a deal."

"Yeah! Then take my body!" I shout at the top of my lungs, unnecessarily in this small room. Even Damien looks surprised at my sudden outburst.

"…What?"

I gulp. It was just something that slipped out of my mouth, but now that I've said it, I can't understand why I didn't come up with the idea sooner. I just use a second to bring together my thoughts and fully understand what I had just said and what it all means.

"I can't give you permission to use Kyle's body, but I said that I'll do anything to save him. And the only thing I can do, is give you permission to use my own body. And that is what I'm gonna do." He walks up to me, listening to my words contently without even blinking, as if to challenge the seriousness behind my words. But even if it was an idea that suddenly came up in the last second, I mean it with all my heart and soul, even if I have to sell those to him too.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Definitely." I say. "You said that it's easier to possess when the person hasn't been baptised. But even if the person has been baptised it's not impossible, right?"

His eyes begin to glow a simmering red. "It will be difficult." He says. "And you'll have more to lose."

"I don't care." I tell him. "And I won't lose more than selling Kyle to you."

I glare into his glowing red eyes, not even flinching under his piercing stare. After a few agonising seconds of glaring at each other, he finally smirks with a shrug, and the daggers disappear from his stare.

"Fine." He smiles, then turns his heals and heads for the door. "My time is nearly up. I have to go now."

"Wait, what? You can't just leave now! Not with Kyle like this!"

"I have to. But don't worry. He won't die." He slides the door open. "I'll come back in the morning. Now I only stopped the time around him for a brief moment. I'll- hmm… 'fix' him, when I come back." He takes a step out the door, and turns back. "Happy Christmas." He says with a sly.

The moment the door clicks shut my watch begins to beep. I slide it out to press the alarm off and then I notice the time. Twelve a.m. Zero seconds to Christmas.

x

The white curtains glow bright with the sunrise, the pure light wakes me up. I find myself leaning against the side of Kyle's bed, my hand gripping onto his still one. I must've fallen asleep by his side, but it wouldn't have been for more than a couple of hours. Yet even with such little sleep my mind feels strangely soothing. I feel like I haven't slept this well in so long. Even while knowing that the antichrist would take over my body in just a few hours, I feel so calm and relaxed, like there's nothing to worry about. And there _is_ nothing to worry about.

The sound of the door sliding open enters my ears and I turn around to see the black figure enter the white room. His black turtleneck and matching pants wraps his white thin body, but he has lost his black scarf. Yeah, it is a warm morning for South Park, I can tell from even inside the hospital. It's so quiet I can even hear birds outside. The blizzard that lasted all night feels as though it was only a bad dream.

Damien glares his obsidian eyes at me, and I can strangely tell that he's asking if I'm sure what I'm doing, if I'm sure about selling my body to him in exchange of Kyle's life. What a stupid question.

I nod, and he narrows his eyes in confirmation. That is our small sealing of the deal.

I move my gaze from Damien back to Kyle, feeling the tension disappear from my eyes. I take his hand back into my own as if to pray to him.

"Kyle," I say. "Kyle, it's all going to be okay. Damien's going to fix you, and everything will go back to normal." _We'll go back to normal..._

The sound of clicking heels come right up beside me, but I don't move my eyes from Kyle to look up at Damien. I slide Kyle's hand out of my grip and move away to make room for the antichrist, with no clue on how he's going to fix Kyle.

Damien moves right up against the bed, leaning over the sleeping boy's limp body, staring into his face. But I don't take strong notice of his movements. I try to keep my dazed eyes on Kyle. But my body jolts in fear when Damien suddenly rips Kyle's breathing mask off and throws it away aggressively. Yet even without the mask Kyle's calm breathing continues. I relax back down when nothing happens, sighing deeply as I sink my eyes into Kyle's free face. Damien shifts beside me ignoring my existence and rests his left hand against Kyle's chest; I imagine him feeling his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his hospital gown. His right hand places upon his forehead, setting his fringe aside and revealing the white skin. But Kyle doesn't do anything to protest against Damien's touch. And I tell myself: of course he won't. I notice Damien's eyes blazing in a flaming red, staring into Kyle's face. It makes my pulse race, but I keep myself firm in my spot; he knows what he's doing. Damien slowly leans into Kyle, until his forehead contacts the smaller boy's. I can hear my heart beat in my throat now. Damien closes his eyes at the contact, the fire disappearing under his eyelids, as if to concentrate his whole mind on Kyle, and send in his energy through that small contact.

It lasts forever, that small contact, enough to let the scene burn into my brain for eternity. But the second Damien rises up, breaking his contact with Kyle, the scene completely disappears from my mind. I open my mouth to say the millions of words stuck in my throat, but none of them come out.

"He's fine." Damien says for me. He looks into my gaping eyes and I find that the blazing fire has completely died out. Then he drops his eyes back down and takes a small breath. My eyes naturally follow his and land on Kyle. "He will live."

With those words, tears naturally flow out of my eyes. My whole body is numb, stone still, but droplets of tears fall down my cheek. It is simply a reaction.

"He will wake up soon, good as new. I will give you the whole day." Clicking of heels again, he's leaving the room. "I will be back at midnight to complete the deal."

The door slides open behind me, quickly and sharply. But before he takes that one step out, I call his name.

"Damien," He pauses with a click of his heel. I don't look back to say it, but I mean it with every single inch of my body. "Thanks."

The door slides shut with a tap. And he's gone. He leaves without a word. But it doesn't really matter. My entire mind is focused on the boy lying in front of me.

It's hard to believe that anything has changed. Kyle is still sleeping there peacefully, without a word, just like he has been for the past few days. But he's going to wake up. His chest rises and falls subtly with the own power of his lungs. He is alive. He will wake up.

My knees crush from underneath and I fall to the ground, leaning my face against Kyle's still arm, grabbing onto his sleave for dear life.

x

"Stan?"

I don't want to wake up. Because I know that that voice is only in my head, and if I open my eyes it would instantly disappear. It is such a soft, yet clear sound that I feel like I haven't heard for a very long time.

"Stan…" The voice drops into a bare whisper, but it still sounds so realistic. I raise my head almost in sudden response, not wanting the voice to disappear. But I flinch in pain as my eyes instantly go blind from the sudden light bursting into my eyes. It is just so bright. But I see something glowing in that light, and I blink my eyes, desperate to get a hold of that figure.

"Hey dude." He smiles and it lights up so bright to my eyes, that it makes the blinding sun seem dim. But it burns my eyes in such a gentle way; it makes my tears build up and makes a smile tint my lips.

"Kyle."

I stand up, letting go of his arm, and instead wrapping my arms around his shoulders and dig my face into his neck. "Kyle," is all I can say, and squeeze him tighter. But no matter how firmly I hold him it doesn't seem enough, until I feel a pair of warm hands wrap around my back, gently. My whole body relaxes instantly, and I let myself slide away from him.

"Hi"

"…Hey."

I don't think I have smiled so honestly before. But I also haven't felt so happy or relieved before. Kyle tries to return an honest smile, but it's somewhat tensed, troubled and confused, and no wonder. But that only makes me chuckle.

"It's so good to see you again." I breathe, my voice almost vanishing under my relieved sigh. But it only turns his troubled smile into a confused frown.

"But you were here the whole time?"

"Yeah I was. But you weren't."

He makes a pout, completely lost with my words, and I chuckle again.

"So, how are you feeling?" I ask, holding in my laughter.

"Actually, since you asked," His pout instantly disappears. "I feel good. Like, completely fine. I mean, my limbs feel a little numb, but I don't feel any pain whatsoever." He digs through his hair trying to massage his head, then rubs his stomach and pinches his arms and legs; shaky, but swift, energetic movements.

"The only thing I feel agonising about is…" My heart slightly jolts at his words, until he finishes his sentence: "Severe hunger."

My mind freezes, and so does my lungs. But they slowly begin to function and I begin to chuckle, until I end up cackling with laughter.

"Hey! Don't laugh asshole! I am actually unbelievably hungry! I could even eat a whole pig if my parents weren't watching!"

But his embarrassment only makes me laugh even harder. His white cheeks dye a bright pink from humiliation and confusion, and it's so wonderful. Seeing colour return to his skin, watching him act so lively and noticing his emerald eyes shine brightly like freshly polished stones. It is so beautiful, it makes me feel unbearably happy, and it just makes it impossible to stop laughing.

"Douche…" He mutters as he gives up on stopping my laughter. He relaxes back into his pillows and looks the other way, cheeks still tinted with colour. My laughter instantly comes to a stop. I reach my hand to cup his chin, and turn his face around, my insides squeezing together.

"Don't look away…" I tell him desperately. So pathetic, but somehow, I can't stand him looking away. I want to see his face. He looks at me with a lost expression, frowning, but nods in my hold to accept my wish. I sigh, and let go of his chin.

Something inside me suddenly turns and it keeps me from looking at Kyle's face. I look down at my hand entwining around his. Because I know that frown, it has sank into me over these past few months. My heart suddenly pumps furiously and I feel like I'm desperate to keep something from exploding inside me. I want to tell him that it's okay. I want to tell him that he'll live, because I made a deal with the Devil's son. But that is something I can never tell him, no matter what happens. He can't know what I'm paying for his life.

The second the room fills with heavy dense air, the door suddenly slams open, making the both of us jump back to life.

"Kyle!" A voice shrieks. Before I can even look back, a tall tower of red hair pushes past me and attacks the boy sitting in his bed. Strong sobbing embraces him as more footsteps tumble in after her. "Oh Bubulah, I'm so happy you're still alive! We didn't think you'd survive the night so we were going to stay here but when we all noticed we were in our beds and it was already morning! Oh, we were so frightened you might've left without us!"

Sheila Broflovski, with her overly large body, crushes Kyle under her arms and douses him with her words without pausing for a single breath. (At least I know now what Damien did to them.) I see Kyle's hand twitching out of her grip but I just silently apologise, not able to help him. Instead of me, a slightly younger hand rests on Mrs. Broflovski's shoulder reassuringly.

"Ma, let him breathe." Mrs. Broflovski looks back with a river of tears falling down her face, making her heavy make-up run down her cheeks. "Let us see him too." He gives her a relaxing smile, his blue eyes damply shining.

"Ike…" Mrs. Broflovski hiccups, but silently lets Kyle slide out of her grip and takes a step back.

"Kyle, how are you feeling? We were really worried last night." Ike says calmly, not dropping his soft smile even as Kyle's lips turn into a pout.

"I don't know Ike, honestly I feel fine. Nothing hurts, and my body feels so light-" He suddenly chokes on his words and arches his back to squeeze his sides, something deep inside his stomach roaring. He lifts his head up in great difficulty, his face pale; it makes my heart drop in worry, until he croaks, "I'm just unbelievably hungry."

x

I sit on the uncomfortable couch situated in front of the doctor's room; my back slumped, leaning into my knees with my elbows, creating a black curtain over my eyes with my fringe. It's weird. I know that everything has to be all right, but I can still hear my heart beat in my ears.

After hearing Kyle's words, Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski hurried out the room to call a doctor. Their minds all tangled in confused knots with the sudden immerge of a string of hope.

Kyle groaned as the nurses took him out of the room for tests. I was afraid that he would start raging for a piece of bread, but he gave up and sunk back into the mattress, dizzily. Even if he's all better, his body is still empty of energy and the lack of muscle and bone.

My hands fiddle with the button on my jacket and I focus my eyes on the fading leather. How long are they going to be in there for? They offered me to come in, but I politely turned it down. I acted as though I was too nervous to hear the results then in there, but honestly, I know the results already. I just don't know what reaction to make in front of them when I hear the news. And yes, I am nervous; my fiddling hands, dazing eyes and thumping heart proves it.

I finally can't take it anymore, and I get up to take a walk, and that is when the door slides open to reveal a completely dazed Ike.

"Ike, what did he say?" I ask the frozen boy, resting my hands on his shoulders. He looks up at me blankly, but his eyes suddenly swell with tears and he looks back down, shaking his head frantically, as if to get a hold of himself. He's only thirteen, yet he can't forgive himself for showing tears.

"Kyle's back in his room. I think he wants to see you."

I gulp after listening to his shaky voice, but quickly adjust my mind, pat his shoulders and rush for Kyle's room.

The door slides open and inside the room feels like another world. The white wall reflects the morning sun more brightly than anywhere else in the building, and Kyle sits in the middle of it, staring out the window silently. His scarlet hair is the only colour I see, and I crave for a sight of his emerald orbs.

"Kyle," I say as I shut the door and Kyle nearly jumps at the small tap of the door closing. My pulse runs nervously as I watch Kyle slowly turn his head like a ridged robot, the muscles in his body clearly not under complete control. There is no strength in his face, the only muscles working being his knotted eyebrows. His eyes glow pink, water filling up in his eyes to the limit.

"Stan, there's nothing-" He shakes, large drops of tears finally falling out of his full eyes, revealing the clear green. "It's all gone. There's nothing wrong with me…" His eyes suddenly fall to his hands, open upwards as if to catch the tears falling from his eyes. But he instantly looks back up at me, begging me with his eyes for something I can't fully understand.

"I'm not going to die…" He finally croaks. The words said with such pain sets me off like a gunshot in a race. I run to his side and wrap my arms around his fragile frame, giving him warmth and supporting his thin body limp in shock. But most of all, to tell myself that he's alive. He digs his fingers into my arms around him and repeats the same words over and over: "I'm not going to die, Stan, I'm not going to die…"

It makes me realise for the first time that he's not going to die.

x

He didn't calm down for quite a while, but I wasn't planning to let him go even after we both fell into silence. Kyle's hands didn't leave me either. We sat there, completely at ease for what seemed like hours, but what only felt like seconds, until the door opened and let in Kyle's family. I left his room for a while after that, to let them have some family time alone. I took that chance to call Kenny and Cartman, to inform them the best news of our lives.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?" Cartman roars to me as he tumbles out the bus. "I swear to god I'm gonna make him pay!" His hand clenches into a tight fist. From behind, Kenny gives the raging fatass a slap on the head to calm him down. But it only makes him rage even more.

"Come on fatass we don't have much time." Kenny says, pushing Cartman's back. And I laugh. It's almost magic how one single phone call can turn everything back to how it was. Even if it's just for now.

"What the hell are you talking about Kenny? We have all the time in the world!"

But the second I say that, and the second the other two walk past my frozen form and into the hospital, my insides drop. Yeah. I completely forgot. I don't have all the time in the world; I only have till midnight.

"What are you doing dickward! Hurry up!" Cartman cries, breaking my time freeze. I quickly run into the hospital before they get any suspicion about my behaviour.

Cartman is the first one to crash into Kyle's room, spilling his rants all over him, making the redhead narrow his eyes in nuisance. When I enter, I see that his parents had already left.

"They went to get some food and books." Kyle tells me, trying to ignore Cartman's rants until a vein finally pops in his head. "What the fuck are you on about anyway fat boy? What the hell do you want to make me pay for!" He spits at Cartman. But the fatass flinches at his words, suddenly tensed and defensive.

"Oh, he's just mad about you making us worry so much." Kenny says sliding the door shut before pouncing onto Kyle. "Mmm… you need to fatten up some Kyle…" He purrs.

Despite it being so long since I last saw Kenny so intimate with Kyle, I quickly grab him off of the skinny boy by the back of his collar like a cat. "Give him some room will ya Ken?"

He pouts but smirks at me mischievously. "Jealous?" I karate chop him on the head.

"So when did the doctors say you could leave the hospital Jew? Not too soon I hope."

"Hey, fuck you fatty." Kyle shows his teeth in a sly grin, but it quickly falls into a frown. "It sucks. I feel completely fine, awesome, except for the slight numbness in my body, but the doctors said that I had to stay here for a week or so just to make sure. So I'm here, perfectly healthy, but I can't even leave the friggin' building."

Cartman grunts sarcastically. "Hey, just because you're not dying anymore doesn't mean you're healthy dude. I mean look at you; you look like a fucking skeleton!"

"Hey, just because you have the fat equivalent to two people."

Kenny and I laugh, watching the two glare daggers at each other.

The way we are so energetic and happy as if the past five months had never happened, exhausts me, and I know the others feel the same too. It's as if we are all forcefully swallowing down our feelings of doubt and confusion, and the only thing we can do is act like our previous selves. But there's no worry. Things would soon go back to normal, without acting or feeling exhausted to be happy. Even without me.

Just about time we suspect the Broflovski family to come back, Cartman and Kenny decide to leave, thinking it would be uncomfortable to get in between some family love. Maybe my saying before 'We have all the time in the world' has done something to them.

"Aren't you leaving too?" Kyle peaks up at me, a small smile on his face that makes me melt inside.

"Nah," I say scratching the back of my head, ignoring the squeezing feeling in my chest. "I'll stay a bit more. Just for today."

x

I practically spend the whole day in his hospital room. I watched the Brfolovskis bonding but made sure I didn't interfere, sitting silently on the stool beside his bed. I spend most of the time talking to Kyle, but the visiting hours weren't enough. After visiting hours we pretended that I left, only to sneak back into the room.

Every time a nurse came in Kyle hid me under the bed, making a curtain around me with his blanket. I know if Kenny and Cartman were here they would think that my action contradicted my words, 'we have all the time in the world', but they don't know that I only have until today, my time with Kyle.

I scoop myself up from under the bed after the nurse leaves for the one last check-up of the day. Kyle chuckles as I lose my balance and fall on top of him, but my stomach twitches queasily from inhaling his sweet sent and feeling the sudden warmth of his breath caressing my cheek.

"So, how long are you planning on staying here Romeo?" He mocks as I stumble back onto my feet. "Don't you think it's getting a bit late for your secret sneaking?"

"Yeah…" I mumble, straightening myself up, not exactly comfortable with my warm cheeks. "And the nurse said that you _do_ need your rest." But when I notice that that meant leaving Kyle, my stomach sinks like dumbbells.

The windows have dyed jet black with the night-time sky, millions of small stars glittering over the dark screen. No clouds, such a rare clear night. It tells me that I don't have much time left.

"Stan?" My eyes shift back to Kyle's alarmed ones at his worried call. "You alright dude?"

I notice that I've been staring out the window blankly in silence.

"Yeah, it's just…" I wipe my mouth with my palm, thinking what to say. "No, it's nothing."

I can hear my pulse pump in my ear; feeling Kyle's suspicious, yet worried gaze on the side of my cheek, I get nervous. I decide to leave before the pressure becomes too much and accidently tell him the truth.

"Kyle, I better leave-" I say, grabbing my leather jacket, scarf and beanie from under the bed and ripping them onto to me, ready to get out of the room.

"Wait, Stan," My hand pauses in the middle of my jacket, my ears focused on his voice. "…Take me."

The murmur sends a shock through my chest and I freeze on the spot, my face burning.

"Huh?"

"Take me with you. Help me sneak out. We can go on a night-time date."

_Oh_- I let out a breath, but my cheeks stay warm from the word 'date'. "Why?"

"Because dude, you're acting so weird, and it's not even nine yet." He shrugs and slides out of his bed, wobbling under his weak legs. But he uses those unsteady legs to walk forward, his arms swaying in the air wondering if they should be used for balance or to reach out for me. My brain quickly switches thought and I rush towards him, letting him collapse against my chest.

"Dude, go back to bed-"

"Shut up." He snips into my words. Then he opens his mouth and glares into my eyes. "Stan, listen. I've been dying for six months; I've been lying in that fucking bed for three months. This is practically the first day of my life. I don't want it to end with you acting all weird and running away from me. Got it?"

He puffs into my face and keep his eyes firm. He's so stubborn sometimes, and it makes it impossible to turn him down.

"Fine." I give up with a sigh, but I can't deny the joy that is rising inside me. "But you're not going like that are you?"

His glare instantly brightens up, blinding my eyes. "No way dude. I asked my parents to get me some clothes, just in case it gets too cold."

He leaves my arms and drags himself to his bag lying in the large chair placed in the corner of the room, the one no one sits on. The insides of the bag are emptied all over the floor by the inpatient Kyle. He groans as he digs through his possessions scattered all over.

"My parents didn't pack me any shirts or pants." He moans; slipping on some woolly socks that he salvaged from the floor for extra warmth before tugging on his snow boots. "Well, I guess this would do."

I lift him up, slightly taken aback by his feather-like weight as he rocks up onto his feet.

"Full-gear" He grins, punching his knuckles together armed with thick mittens. A log scarf wraps around neck, making half his face bury into it. The old ushanka rests on his head proudly, as if it was the warmest piece of clothing that ever existed. His thin hospital gown sneaks from underneath his long duffel coat, leaving his legs exposed. Despite how 'full-gear' he is, his pink knees left without clothing leaves me knotted.

"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough?"

"Yeah, yeah." He says, looking down at himself, following my eyes. "I mean, I have underwear on. And besides, girls do it all the time. Wear skirts in the cold I mean." None of that makes me relieved but I leave it at that. Despite how worried I am I'm not willing to give up my jeans for him. I mean, it would be a much nicer view for him to be wearing a dress than me…

"Come on Stan." Kyle calls, already half way out the door. I quickly shake that last thought out of my head and follow him out the room.

x

"…Sorry Stan." He moans into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I wasn't intending to make you do this."

I grunt through heavy breaths and adjust him against me, finding an easier position for me to move. "Don't worry. I was kinda, prepared for it."

He lets out a deep sigh, completely disappointed in himself. "I just don't remember this hill being so steep."

I chuckle. Even while clinging onto my back like a child he still has the spirit to make excuses.

"You barely made it out the hospital with those wobbly legs."

"Shush!" He tugs onto my beanie, blinding my vision from behind.

"Hey, just because you're as light as a feather, doesn't mean I can carry you down this hill with my eyes closed!" But it's too late. I stumble over the snow, making us both clash into the whiteness. I groan into the cold and puff the white flakes stuck to my mouth.

"Where are we going anyway?" Kyle asks as he slides off my back so I don't sink any deeper into the snow, completely ignoring the fact that he just caused us to crash.

"I don't know. You're the one who came up with the idea to go out so late." I flip onto my back and pinch the bridge of my nose. But when I let go and open my eyes, I lose myself in the view cast above me. I forget to breathe for a second, but quickly clench my teeth and get up, before Kyle notices what I'm looking at.

"Come on."

"Huh?" he mumbles.

"Come on." I repeat and cast him up into the air. "I have an idea on where to go." And he's on my back again, giving up walking by himself after a few tumbles into the snow.

We silently agree to each other when we reach South Park, to let him walk on his own feet. I let him slide off my back and wrap his arm around my shoulders for support as we walk down the hill and through the bushes of the end of town. He definitely knows now where we're heading.

He wisps out of my grip at the last few steps of the hill, trotting down and into the wide-open space of stark's pond. He breathes in a deep breath, extending his arms into the air to feel the cold air cleanse his body.

Just as I think that I reached up to him he starts rushing around again to the bank of the lake, its surface solid frozen, thick ice. Before I can stop him, he does exactly as I fear. He taps the ice with the tip of his right boot, checking its strength and then stepping onto it.

"Wow!" He says, wobbling on his spot. Even for a normal person walking on ice isn't an easy task, let alone for a person who has just recovered from a terminal illness. I frown at my use of English but let it slide, focusing my mind back on Kyle.

"Kyle, come back it's dangerous!" I begin to flinch as Kyle nears the centre of the lake.

"No shi-iiit" He shakes, his feet sliding in different directions under him, until they finally break into the splits and bring Kyle down onto his back, forcing out a shriek from inside him.

In panic, I rush onto the ice and slide clumsily towards the fallen redhead, my breath rigid.

"Kyle!"

But something suddenly tugs onto my hand and pulls me down onto the ground, making me crush onto the empty space of the ice right next to Kyle. Our bodies parallel to each other.

"OW! Fuck! Kyle that hurt!" I indicate to his grip around my hand that sent me crashing down.

"Yeah I know! It fucking kills right?" He laughs, rubbing his back that crashed onto the ice. Confused, I chuckle then slowly burst into laughter at Kyle's ridiculousness. White air dances energetically around us as we laugh.

"So, why did you want to come here anyway?" Kyle asks, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek that leaked out from laughter. The question brings me into silence, remembering what I came here with Kyle for.

Keeping our eyes locked together, I nudge my head in indication of the sky. He blinks, and follows my movements and looks up. I watch him as his eyes widen, letting thousands of little lights glitter in his emeralds. I came here because I wanted to share with him the beauty of the night sky. But I wasn't expecting that I'd see something even more beautiful here.

"It's not everyday that we have such a clear night is it?" He murmurs after a while. I finally get my eyes to move away from the redhead and onto the glowing sky.

"Yeah."

I drop my eyes back onto Kyle; his lips spread into a smile, eyes closed in relaxation, completely set free from agony and depression, not a single cloud on his face. As if noticing my gaze, he opens his eyes, letting the moonlight make his eyes glow, and tilts his head to face me. The wide smile disappears from him, leaving his lips slightly parted in hesitation. His straight, pure gaze empties all thoughts out of my mind, all senses focus on my vision of Kyle.

"Don't let go." He pleads a whisper, and moves his hand so that our fingers entwine.

It puts me into a daze. His eyes are not only glowing emeralds, but they shine off all different colours I never knew existed. I respond to him by squeezing his hand tight. My insides feel like they're twisting together. The back of my eyes heat up.

"No. No I won't."

As if my words were a trigger, tears begin to build up in Kyle's eyes and run like streams down his cheek, creating transparent dots on the ice it falls on. His cry, such a rare sound, echoes inside me so loud and clear. I listen to him in silence, my hand shaking from squeezing his hand too tight. I want to say his name, over and over again. I want to say that it's all right and take him into an embrace. But I can't. My whole body is frozen as if to keep me from interrupting Kyle's honest cry. So instead I make a silent promise: that no matter what happens, I will protect him. I won't make him cry like this ever again.

And then I'm mentally prepared. Nearly midnight. I'm prepared to give my body to the antichrist for the boy who is lying next to me.

x

I slide the hospital door open, quietly and carefully so that Kyle, hanging from my back, doesn't wake up. He twitches as I pull his boots off and moans us I unbutton his coat. The fluids in my body stir, heat rising to my face, and I suddenly feel like banging my head against the white wall. It would wake up Kyle though, so I don't.

Giving him one last glance, sinking in the sight of him sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, I stand up. His cheeks still pink from the cold air outside, his chest rising rhythmically in his sleep; I tell myself for the thousandth time that he's alive, and he'll stay alive. I turn my heels and walk towards the door, hesitantly placing my hand on the handle. But just as I prepare my heart to open it I hear the sound of rustling sheets behind me.

"Stan?" I turn back to meet emerald eyes. They are a sudden deep green, so deep that I can't read the emotion hidden inside them. "Can you pass me my hat?"

"Oh," I gasp, rushing to the table and then to his bed, handing out his hat. But he only stares at it as if thinking, then ignores it completely and turns his eyes up to mine.

"See you tomorrow, right?" He whispers, eyes exploring mine doubtfully. My heart jumps, but I gulp to keep my calm.

"Yeah, sure" I lie, because even if he seems me tomorrow, it won't be me inside.

Without a clue, Kyle nods with a stiff smile, trusting my words. It breaks my heart to lie to him, but even more to say goodbye to him nonchalantly and leave him not knowing the next time I'll meet him.

Kyle's ushanka slips out of my hand as his gaze drops away from my eyes. My free hand places itself on Kyle's cheek, moving it so that our eyes meet again. He's awake now, but I'm not afraid.

Carefully, I lean down and place my lips on his, so soft and warm, I focus all my senses into the kiss. There is small tension left in me from hesitation; I expect him to freeze, I expect him to push away, but when I feel a warm hand move to the back of my neck all the knots in me loose free. No more hesitation, just a bit of self-control. Warmness flows through me and makes me melt as I taste him and inhale his breath, but I make sure that I don't take it too far: just the rims of his lips, deeply and contently.

Leaving him nonchalantly? Who am I kidding; I know I can't do that.

We part our lips and look into each other deeply, my hand still on his cheek.

"…Bye Kyle."

The words hurt as I breathe them out, but I have no regrets. I pull back and Kyle's warmth leaves my hand. Confused, he doesn't say anything, just searches my eyes for an answer that I won't give him. No, I definitely have no regrets.

x

The second I slide the door shut behind me my watch starts beeping, but I don't look at it. I notice by the atmosphere that one step outside the door is another world waiting. The air is piercing, colder than it was a minute ago. No signs of any presence of the nurses I sneaked past with Kyle. The lights are all out; the moonlight shining through the window is the only source of light. The beeping echoes through the hollow corridor, until it meets another sound in the distance: the clicking of footsteps.

The sound becomes louder and louder as it harmonises with my watch. A shadow is casted every time the figure walks into the moonlight, and disappears with the gaps between each window. I feel oddly soothed and relaxed, but I hear my heartbeat thump in my ears, watching the figure come closer. My watch suddenly falls silent as the figure takes one last step forward.

He stands right in front of me, the moon lighting him up, giving me one last good look of him. His eyes a flaming red glow brighter than the moonlight, making his slit eyes the brightest things in this corridor. His face is the same deathly pale, but I notice that his round lips are almost a burning red; small white fangs sneak through them as he opens his mouth.

"It's time." He says calmly.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- I like stars… Well that was a happy chapter wasn't it? I was totally inspired by 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' because I watched it on valentines. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope it wasn't too agonisingly long. I would make any long chapters in the future double if that's better. <strong>

**(*Wishing on the same moon, song by Powder finger)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N- Update, yay! I am under a lot of stress right now. School is killing me and now I have to start some special course on Sat-days. School, why you no let me sleep? Anyway, special thanks to: WxTxR, TwilightC, .Tweek, styleforever20 and OXRosinaOX for reviewing! During these stressful times reviews really boost my motivation to write, so thank you so much. **

**Warning- There is a little bit of tomato juice in this chapter, but it's nothing strong. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Five: With lost senses…<span>_

I let out a sigh of nervousness, disguising it as a deep breath.

"So. How do we do it?" I ask, casually as possible. He raises his eyebrow then smirks.

"You seem more enthusiastic than the last time I saw you."

I shrug. "Yeah, well-" Kyle's cry flashes in my head. "How bad could it be?"

His smirk falls into a frown, eyes glaring into space. "Not so good." He says as he takes a glass flask out of nowhere. "But first we have to do something about your baptism."

"Oh yeah," my heart sinks even further. "I forgot about that."

Damien throws the transparent flask at me and I notice it glow bright red in the moonlight. I catch it safely and admire the beautiful liquid inside. A deep mesmerising red, the centre glowing under the dim light, it makes me feel intoxicated by simply gazing into it, its sheer beauty almost like a seducing poising.

"What is it?" I ask dreamily, raising the flask into the light and twirling it around, making the transparent liquid swirl inside. I lose myself in the liquid, forgetting reality, even forgetting that I asked the antichrist a question. That is, until he opens his mouth and his voice echoes through the cold air, light and transparent, yet heavy like smoke.

"'_This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many so that their sins may be forgiven…_'"

His voice is mesmerising, even more than the beautiful liquid, but it sends a deep chill down my spine as if a ghost had just brushed right through me.

I gulp. "Is this wine?"

He sends me a quick glance. "No. It is more similar to tea. Blended five different plants from Hell's garden and a rose burned with my fire into a cup of water from the crimson sea." His teeth show as his lips slit into a thin smile. "With an extra touch" He adds. I don't even want to know what that extra touch is.

"So, I'm guessing that I have to drink this?"

He nods. "Bottoms up."

I twist the flask open, dropping the cock to the ground. The liquid has no scent, giving me no idea of its taste. I sigh. "Okay… here goes nothing."

I raise the flask to my lips, the glass painfully cold; then I swing my elbow into the air and tilt my head back, letting the liquid pour out of the glass neck and into my mouth. The smooth liquid scrapes my tongue as if I was licking an old rusty knife, I can feel it burn through my throat and leak into my stomach like acid. It feels thick and heavy, like mud, only boiling.

When the last drop falls on my tongue I fling the flask to the ground and grasp my throat in agony, not caring about the glass shuttering into a million pieces.

"What the FUCK is that!" I shout through rasped breaths.

"Well, the blended plants are simply to hide the flavour. What it really is, is my blood."

I gape at him, my hand falling from my throat. "_Your… blood_?"

He shrugs with a smirk and I suddenly feel all the acids in my stomach stir and rise up my pipes. My hand swings to my mouth to hold the vile in. Damien simply watches me drearily as I whirl on my feet, sickness making me dizzy.

"Sick…" Is what I say when I finally feel the boiling liquid sink back down. "Is that all then?" I ask hopefully. But his answer pierces me with slight fear.

"No… There's one last thing" His heals click as he takes a step forward towards me. Silver shines as he slides a masterly crafted knife out of his black sleeves. Twirling his knife in his left hand to free his fingers, he lifts the sleeve of his right hand up to reveal his ghostly skin. Then he raises his arms and brings his hands just above my head. When my mind concentrates back onto Damien's face, his blazing red eyes are only inches away from mine, his cold breath floating across my neck. "Remember, after this there is no turning back. When you die your soul would be casted to the depths of hell. Do you accept this?"

A shaky laugh escapes my mouth. "Heh. Kenny said that only Mormons go to heaven anyway."

"I see."

Just as those words leave his mouth I hear skin rip and feel something splatter over my head, warm drops leak down my fringe and spits onto my cheeks. It takes a second for my mind to register that that warm liquid is Damien's blood.

He drops his arms without a flinch of pain as if it were nothing, but I see a long deep cut shoot through his forearm and blood running down his skin like a river, creating a crimson sea on the white hospital floor. My heart beats to the sound of the small red drops falling from the silver blade in his left hand.

Feeling the warmth tickle down my cheek, looking at the oozing wound on Damien's arm, hearing the rhythmic drops hit the floor and smelling the acrid metallic tang, my senses get dominated by the blood of the Devil's son. My whole body shakes uncontrollably, my mind is left in a dark blank; every breath I take is a ragged gasp.

"Now you're done-" I hear a voice in the distance. But it's so far away that I can't move a hair to respond to it.

Then suddenly something pulls me down by a grip around my jacket and I nearly stumble over a figure in front of me. I'm brought back to consciousness as flaming red eyes burn into mine. The menacing strength of his glare cools my head and calms my breath down, my shaking coming to an end.

"This is it." He says softly, his grip still around my jacket. I drop my head in a nod. "Remember, this is necessary and I don't want to do it as much as you wouldn't, so don't push away, no matter what."

"Ah- Okay-"

Before I can finish, and before I can take a deep breath, he pulls me down, crashing our lips together. My stomach turns as Kyle's faint sweetness leaves my mouth and is completely replaced by a spicy sensation of smoke. I grab his shoulders aiming to tear him away, but his previous words struck my brain and I slide them back down.

It's not a kiss, don't call it that. It is merely an entrance for Damien to slide into me. I can tell it by the way we glare at each other as our mouths clash, as if telling each other not to enjoy a single moment of it.

Slowly, my mind starts to numb and my vision begins to darken. The strength in my body flows away as I slowly kneel to the ground.

The last thing I see before I lose all my senses, are two flaming eyes burning in the darkness.

o

o

o

He stares at the body lying on the ground blankly, as if it were a puppet that fell to the floor after its strings were cut off. His pale white, almost blue eyelids are closed, leaving the flaming fire locked inside his eyes, or maybe it has completely burned out. Blood continues to ooze out the long cut on his forearm even as he lies there, completely empty and forgotten. Yet the cut seems smaller than it was before, but that can't be, can it? I hear the rubber of my shoes squeak against the hospital floor as he takes a step towards the body. A shiver shoots up my chest and I notice that he has stepped into the pool of blood without a second thought.

Blood sinks into my hands, leaks underneath my nails as he crouches down and scoops my hands underneath the body. I don't feel it or smell it, but it still makes me sick. Neither do I feel the weight of the body being cast over my shoulder. And then I notice that it's not only the weight, or the blood that I don't feel. I don't feel the cold air stab my cheeks, I don't feel my lungs expands as I breathe in air, I don't feel any twitches in my hands or shakes in my legs- I don't feel anything.

He turns my body and shoots a glimpse at the frozen window as he rocks back into the air. And then for the first time I see my reflection, and he sees his reflection. My nose, my skin, my mouth, my hair and my ears, yet the two eyes staring back are different- they are blazing crimson. It is my face, my clothes and my body, yet he who wears them is different.

That is not you Stan Marsh; say hello to Damien.

x

He runs my hand through my hair, rinsing out every drop of dry blood off every strand. I _could_ feel really uncomfortable about him touching me, washing me in the shower, which I really do feel uncomfortable with to be honest, but the blank expression he makes that reflects in the glass, without even a spec of admiring, interest or even disgust shown there, almost makes me feel like _I'm _the dirty one for even feeling uncomfortable with his touch- not that I can technically feel it. So I pretend I don't care, after all, it is his body now, and this would be one of the things that I will have to get used to.

"So Stan- I mean, _Damien_. Do you want me to send your empty body to hell, or do you just want me to stash it here, in the basement or… something like that?" Pip's voice calls out from outside the bathroom. It is strange to hear him call out to me like that, or though he's not _technically_ calling to _me_. He doesn't have that formal way of talking that he usually has, it is not fake. It makes me realise that he has always kept himself distant from other people by being so polite. But now when he talks to Damien it is so natural, there is even a sense of respectful ego. It is like talking to a friend. Goddamn it. If he talked like that to everyone then maybe he wouldn't have gotten all that shit for all these years.

"Keep it in your basement." My voice calls back, cutting off my thoughts. And I notice that that coldness and edginess of the antichrist has already begun to sink into my voice. Strange. Change the inside and the outside seems to change as well.

He takes a step out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my waist; my vision is blurred from the drops of water falling from my fringe. The laundry machine roars with my clothes in it, trying its best to take out every drop of blood from the fabric.

The first thing Damien does half naked is to head towards the basement. Pip sits there next to the empty body, a bucket of water next to him, and gently wipes the blood of Damien's pale arm. "I am still amazed at how fast you heal Damien. The cut has already healed even without you inside." He comments and drops the bloodstained towel into the bucket. "Maybe it doesn't even need you." He adds with a chuckle.

"What use does it have without me-" Damien mutters as he kneels before his body, and takes his clean wrist into my hand. Before I can even guess what he's about to do, I hear a loud _crunch_ come from my hand. But not exactly, it comes from what is in my hand. Damien's wrist is completely split, his hand dangling from the meat that keeps his hand attached to his arm. Blood gashes out of the savage wound, pouring to the ground. Snapped bone rips through his skin like a thick needle, making a hole in his wrist.

"Damien what did you do that for! Have you gone completely mental?" Pip yells from above. "I just finished cleaning that arm you know!"

But Damien ignores him, dropping the broken wrist to the ground and sinking my fingers into the pool of blood. As if it's the most natural thing to do, he lifts the shirt up of his body lying on the ground with my clean hand, exposing his white torso. He begins to mutter something in a foreign language under his breath like a dark chant and carefully draws a symbol on his chest with his blood, right above his heart.

"What is that?" Pip words my question. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen."

Are you kidding me? It looks exactly like all those weird pentagrams or pentacles or whatever they're called in the book he showed me the other day.

"It is a type of seal, like freezing my body in time." Damien explains with my voice. "Now my body practically cease to exist. It won't return to hell after the two hours is up and there will be no one who can find it. It is my first time using it though. It is only useful if I'm _not_ in the body."

Giving the empty body one last glance, Damien blankly exits the basement.

"Borrow some of my clothes Damien, or you're going to make Stan catch a cold." Pip calls, following Damien's trail. I nearly forgot from not feeling the cold, but the only fabric on me is the bath towel wrapped around my waist. Does the antichrist not feel the cold?

x

"Here you go." Pip says, handing out a large mug, fume rising from inside. It is warm milk and I almost laugh, if I had the use of my mouth. How dumb is he? No way the antichrist will drink that like a good boy to warm his body up before he goes to bed.

"Thank you." My voice whispers politely. I don't know what to be more surprised about: Damien's manners or the fact that he gratefully takes the warm milk. I always thought that Damien was too much or an arrogant dick (being the son of the Devil and all) to even have manners. But I guess if I look back, he always had that weird politeness, or formality in him. Maybe it comes from royalty. He is a _prince_ after all, no matter how gay that sounds. …The prince of darkness drinking warm milk before bed…

I hear myself laugh, but the sound doesn't enter my ears. It is a weird, surreal feeling, like talking in a dream.

"_Shut up"_ A voice echoes in a similar way. But it instantly disappears, doing nothing but stopping my laughter, so I guess that it's just my mind playing tricks on me.

Damien and Pip both finish their drinks at the same, eyeing each other as they take their last sip. First, I see amusement in Pip's eyes until they slowly fall into doubt.

"Damien. You should get rid of that habit while you're in Stan's body." He inches.

But Damien simple answer a small "I know", before standing up onto my feet. "I will rest now."

Pip smiles then lets out a yawn. "Yeah. I might as well too."

For a second, my stomach lurches in doubt that Pip is going to sleep with Damien, with _my_ body. But that worry instant disappears when Damien flips onto his back on the couch. A blanket and pillow already ready waiting for him. He grinds my teeth and wiggles my nose annoyingly as if stressing on trying to hold something in. But after a few seconds he decides to ignore that stress and flips over, facing the back of the couch, ready to sleep.

In a second the lights are out, he closes my eyes. Now I don't even have the small moonlight to keep me compony. It is as though I've suddenly gone blind. With Damien taking over my body I only had my hearing and my vision, but now the latter I have lost as well.

I wish I could just fall unconscious. I feel incredibly tired, but I don't feel a spec of sleepiness. Maybe I don't even need to sleep. Damien seems to be doing that for me after all. But that leaves me with nothing to do. I could focus on my hearing, but the only thing I can hear is the distant sounds of rustling trees. It is slightly relaxing, but it doesn't kill much time.

Left with nothing to do, my mind trapped in this body, I can't do anything but think. Think about what happened, think about what will happen, and then most of all, think about Kyle. To be honest, I'm scared. I have no idea on how Damien is going to act around with my body. I mean, would he even _try_ to act like me? Maybe over the next couple of years with Damien inside me, Kyle will go sick of me-

Suddenly, the memory of our last kiss flows into my mind: the softness and warmth of his lips, the sweetness of his air breathing into me. And for that brief moment it is like I have gained back my feel; happiness and hope run through me as I feel warmth spread and squeeze my chest. But that sensation instantly disappears, and I come back to reality, left in the darkness. I regain my trace of thought…

…_Even worse, maybe he will notice that I'm a different person. _

I shudder at the thought.

If Kyle ever knew that I sold my body to Damien to save his life he would definitely blame himself. With his kindness and moral beliefs he would make Damien call off the deal to free my body, and that will leave him to die. No. I can't let that happen, no matter what.

I want to grip into the blanket tight, I want to bite my lip until it bleeds, I want squeeze my eyes shut until my head begins to throb, just to distract myself from thinking. But I can't move or feel; I can't do any of that. And I'm left here, with nothing to distract me, to listen to the cycle of my hopeless thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- I. Love. Being. Mean! …to my characters. Just in case you're feeling anxious, there will be no DamienStan (Stamien?) or Dip in this story, I assure you (…maybe). But please tell me what you think. In other words~ I love you… so please review! **

**Oh, and tell me if Stan's monologue is getting a little confusing.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N- Hello! Short chapter is a shorter wait. Thank you WxTxR, OXRosinaOX, Rachel5M, styleforever20 for your reviews ;) I don't have much to say.**

**I hope you enjoy~**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Six: Laughing with the Antichrist.<span>_

_He let out a deep sigh, which disappeared into the fast wind blowing into the car. _

"_You don't want to go that much huh?" I asked him, giving him a quick glance with my hands secured on the steering wheel. But even without a conversation I couldn't keep myself from glancing at him every two milliseconds. I didn't exactly know why then, but I soon learnt it was because I thought he looked amazing. _

_He was wearing a perfect black three-piece-suit that looked as if it were freshly ironed. But he had his black jacket cast away in the back seat along with mine. They were both disliked on that particularly warm day. But unlike Kyle, I couldn't feel frustrated about the weather; I was too distracted with what I was seeing. He wore a vest that clung to his thin waist, shaping the subtle curves of his frail back and hips. His fluffy red hair wasn't his usual bird's nest, but fell into soft perfect rings, forcefully tamed by his mother. Although I loved his usual scruffy self, his different style seemed to make my heart beat in a different way. _

"_Prom fucking promenade..." He muttered under his breath, not noticing my gaze. But I couldn't disagree with him. Going to the prom, where it was expected to be dark with flashy lights and many hyper people, suddenly seemed like a complete waste. _

"_Do you wanna bail?" I murmured as a suggestion. _

"_What?" I wasn't expecting that he'd hear my quiet mutter, but he asked eagerly, slightly taking me off guard._

"_Do you wanna bail out on prom? It's a stupid event anyway." After telling him I felt so much better, like I was excited about my own idea. _

"_But… What about Wendy?" _

_I narrowed my eyes at the road ahead, suddenly feeling irritated towards his reference to my girlfriend of the time. But I didn't want him to notice, so I simply shrugged. _

"_She'll live." I said and I took one hand off the steering wheel to curl a finger around his hair. It was an unconscious move, done without thought. Then when I noticed Kyle staring into me confused, I realised what I was doing and quickly untangled my finger out of his hair. _

"_Sorry- there was just… something in it." I cleared my throat as I felt my face burn for no reason and I turned my eyes back to the road, I probably should've concentrated on the road more. But then I heard him chuckle, and I turned back to face him._

"_That would be nice." He said with a smile._

"_Huh?" Nice- nice?_

_He grinned, showing his pearly teeth. "Bailing out on prom."_

_I remember the wind being extra strong that day._

x

I fall out of my memory and come back to darkness. It seems like Damien still hasn't waken up yet. I wonder how long it's been since he fell asleep. Two? Four? Five hours? It feels like eternity, yet it feels like only a minute. I want to scrunch up my hair in frustration. Goddamn whatever broke my concentration! It was one of the best moments of my life, and right now, it's one of the only things that can keep my mind from thinking hopeless thoughts. With no sign of Damien moving or waking up, I decide relax my mind and fall back into the memory.

x

_Kyle shook his head in disapproval when we arrived at our destination. "Disappointing Stan. I was expecting something more romantic, like a sun-setting beach or something." _

"_Well sorry your majesty, but the only place I could come up with was a sun-setting lake." I returned to him sarcastically. _

_We both burst into laughter and rushed towards the bank of the lake. He slid his necktie off and threw it into the air, letting the wind carry it over the water. Then he flung a couple of buttons off his shirt, letting his thin neck free. _

"_Fuck that feels better!" He said and released his arms into the air like wings. _

_Then a sudden shoot of fierce wind pushed us away from the edge of the water, blowing through us as if we were flying high in the sky. The sensation instantly made the both of us fall silent in amazement. _

_In that silence, the sound of the waves rushing up and down the small pebbles and sand of the bank entered our ears. It was subtle, yet it sounded so much like the beach. The beautiful sound suddenly made me so aware of everything. The clear water, the setting sun burning in bright red and purple dyeing the high clouds and the top of the mountains- it made me sigh breathlessly. _

"_Well… I guess it's good enough." _

_When I looked down at the voice, I met Kyle's eyes smiling sheepishly into mine. The beauty of the nature instantly disappeared from my mind and all there was, was Kyle. _

_I bet Kyle was as surprised as I was at that moment. He didn't even close his eyes, yet I don't know if he would've even if he knew what I was going to do. _

_And that's how it happened, with the sun setting over shining mountains, the wind brushing past us gently. Our fist kiss._

x

"Damn it…"

I hear my voice mutter, followed by uncomfortable shuffling. Is Damien awake? I wait for more signs of movement, but nothing comes.

Fallen out of my memory, I wait in the darkness again for morning to come. But it doesn't feel as bad anymore. I feel my lips warm up comfortably and my heart beat a little faster, which is strange, since I can't technically feel anything. But the memory is so strong; I can remember it as clearly as yesterday, which makes it so realistic that I can even imagine the warmness of his lips and the rhythm of my heart.

Suddenly, more sounds of shuffling enter my ears, and then I hear something tug onto my hair. It takes me a second to understand that Damien had tugged onto my hair as if in frustration.

"_Stan Marsh."_ I jump at the sudden voice echo through my mind. _"Will you please be quiet, please? I can't go to sleep."_ It's a plead, but the tone of the voice is so dark and venomous that it almost sounds like a threat.

"_Damien?"_ I ask the frozen darkness.

"_Yes." _The voice breathes.

"_How can I hear you?"_ I ask the voice excitedly, finally having a conversation with someone- or something, an unknown voice. I wonder if this is what it would feel like to be talking to god. Then it struck me. _"Wait… How can you hear _me_?"_

I hear him smirk out loud this time with my voice. _"You can hear me because I'm talking to you. I can hear you because you never have your blabbering mind shut off."_

My heart sinks and I feel cold, but strangely hot with embarrassment at the same time.

"_You can hear my thoughts? You were listening to me the whole time?"_ I shout towards the darkness.

"_Yes. Every, god, damn, detail."_ He emphasises every word, but that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that I suddenly feel boiling from embarrassment.

So… He just heard my thoughts? He just heard me remembering my first kiss with Kyle?

"_Yes I did."_ He sighs. _"I can also see your visions too, to be clear."_

_Fuck_. I don't know if I'm supposed to be embarrassed or disgusted. I mean, no one knows about that memory except for Kenny. I feel as though I have broken some sort of sacred promise I never even made.

"_And I…"_ I hear Damien begin and it breaks my trace of thought. I listen carefully for continuing words, but strangely, they don't come. The only thing that follows is a sigh.

"Never mind." He accidently says those two words out loud, but he continues again with his voice directly echoing into my head. _"We might be two different individuals, but we're practically one-mind one-body now. So you should try to hide your thoughts, or be careful of what you think."_

I scoff at this annoyingly.

"_That might be easy for you to say, but what am I supposed to do? I'm stuck in here in the dark with nothing to do but wait for you to wake up. I'm bored shitless with nothing to do but think!" _

"_Then sleep."_ He replies nonchalantly.

"_What?"_ I can sleep?

"_Let your mind drown into the darkness. It will take you, and time will fly as if you were asleep. It would be similar to meditation so it will relax your mind." _His voice breathes tiredly and it's soon followed by silence. He must've fallen asleep.

So I do as I'm told. I look into the darkness and let my mind wonder, float into infinity. And as he said, it takes me, like gentle waves. I see a blank dream.

x

The laundry roars to a stop, waking us up as if it were an alarm.

"_Morning."_ I tell him as he opens my eyes up, just for the sake of it. He grunts in return.

Outside the living room window is still dark, the old clock above the fireplace has barely struck seven.

I hear rustling and Damien stand up from the couch and walks towards the bathroom. He flings the laundry machine open and fished out my clothes, slipping out of Pip's clothes and changing into them.

He walks into the kitchen and pours a glass of milk and bolts it down as if it's his breakfast. How much does he like milk? He'll need more than _that_ for breakfast if he wants to live in _my_ body.

"_I know."_ He answers, hearing my thoughts. And I would have grinned at that.

His footsteps, or my footsteps, tap quietly on the weak wooden floor as he moves around. He scribbles something on a piece of paper; I see the four words and frown, mentally. '_Thanks for the milk'_. What a dick. His footsteps creak a little more as he heads for the front door, grabbing my leather jacket hanging beside it.

"_What? You're leaving? Now? This early?" _

He pauses, then shrugs with a scoff._ "Should dirty up your house before your parents come back. Just to make it look natural."_

I know it's not his real intention, but his answer makes my heart soar.

"_You're gonna try and act like me?"_ I ask him, my voice filled with hope.

"_Of course. I'm the one who would be in more trouble if they found out that you're actually me or I'm you."_ He scrunches up my face as he states, as if weary with my stupidity. But I don't care. What he said had made me so relieved that the tension in my mind instantly releases.

Just with that second, Damien flings the front door open, the piercing cold air attacks my face, is what I imagine. It's not snowing, or windy, but the frozen atmosphere of the early morning looks more painful than any kind of blizzard. He walks straight into it, slamming the door shut behind us.

Even though I feel much relieved, I can't say I'm a hundred per cent. Just because he'll try and act like me, doesn't mean that he'd do it right. I mean, he doesn't even _know_ me that much.

x

He leaves a packet of chips open on the couch just to bring out some reality and gets the vacuum cleaner out, placing it on the ground ready for action, waiting for the sound of a car parking into the driveway. I hear a car driving in the distance.

"_That'll be them; turn it on!"_ I yell at him.

"_Don't order me."_ He grumbles but does what he's told all the same.

The door slams open a few seconds after turning the machine on, so Damien turns it back off and rushes towards the front door.

"I see that you've been cleaning Stanley." My mum says as Damien picks up her bags off the ground.

"Only because you always nag me about leaving the house dirty." I hear my voice respond with no venom or edginess. Funny. He sounds just like me.

"Well I'm glad to hear that, honey." She says as dad tumbles into the room with his overly large bags. Thankfully Damien's in the kitchen so he doesn't need to respond to my father's stupidity.

"I'm home Staaaan. And see what I've goooot. Uncle Jim and Aunty Jemima gave us sooo many presents. It's such a pity you couldn't come." He teases and I feel Damien scoff. God, why does my father have to be so fucking embarrassing all the time?

"Don't worry Stan, they're mostly for you." Mum comments and Damien smiles back at her.

"Thanks mum." He says as he finishes putting away leftover Christmas dinner into the fridge that my parents scavenged at our relative's house.

"_It's nearly three."_ I tell him, looking at the clock as he puts away food into the last empty space of the fridge.

"_So?"_ He says back. I sigh.

"_So… We should be getting to the hospital. I always see Kyle around this time of day." _

He stares into the full fridge blankly, as if thinking. Time feels unnaturally long and tense while he does that, so when he finally slams the door shut I relax my mind with another sigh.

"_Fine." _It's as though he was never planning on going. But he agrees to go so I guess it's all right.

"Mum! I'm just going to go to the hospital 'see Kyle okay?" Damien shouts up towards my parents' bedroom. I hear a distant 'Okay honey!' so he exits the house and digs my chucks into the snow. Yeah, not the best shoes for South Park, I comment before Damien says anything. He digs my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket and drags my feet to the bus stop.

I must say that I'm pretty impressed by the way Damien acted around my parents. It was as though he was playing a part in an act that he has been practising for months. Which is kind of strange, with the fact that he was going to possess _Kyle_ and not _me_.

"_You're not a bad actor." _I tell him, remembering his interactions with my mum, the tone in his voice.

"_I act around my father all the time. Family is just one whole act anyway."_

Is that what he thinks? Can't say that I disagree with him fully though. Every teenager somewhat acts around their parents. I do it all the time myself. But then…

"_How about friends?"_ I ask him, challenging him stays silent._ "Don't you have any friends to act for?"_

He looks up into he frozen sky thinking, my white breath dancing around us_. "I have Pip. But I don't act around him." _

"_How about me?" _I ask half-heartedly.

"_You aren't worth it." _He answers half heartedly, adding a smirk.

I scoff._ "Thanks douchebag." _

I hear him laugh, or more like let out a ball of breath. I gape. Although it's my voice, it's the first time I've ever heard him laugh so sincerely. But I don't comment on it. It's not a bad feeling though, laughing with the antichrist.

x

I hear voices coming from inside the door, chatting joyfully. Apparently Kenny and Cartman have arrived before us. I wait patiently for Damien to open the door, feeling myself get excited. Even if I'm trapped in here it doesn't stop me from looking forward to see Kyle. But Damien just stands there in a daze, staring at the white door, the wall between us and them.

"_What the fuck Damien? Just open the door." _I say, finally getting impatient. He jolts as if he just arrived back in reality.

"_I know."_ He spits, and slides the door open.

A second of silence fills the air until a bright voice breaks it like sunshine breaking through clouds.

"Stan!"

He calls my name. He calls _me_. Kyle…

I feel my heart bounce against my chest once like a sudden attack, making a shock shoot through my mind. What the hell…

Did I just, _feel_?

"What the hell took you so long dude!" Kyle moans, slightly sitting up further in excitement. That makes me smile.

"Hey, we were kindly suggesting that you had finally broken up with Kyle and ran away to Alaska because you're a goddamn pussy." Cartman smirks.

"Yeah. And I would be next in line for the cute little redhead." Kenny says with a wink, probably to provoke me. Kyle groans.

And here is when I say, "Stuff it up your ass Kenny."

…Huh? I don't hear my voice.

"_Damien. Shouldn't you say something?"_ I whisper to him, even though no one else can hear me. But Damien stays silent, frozen on his spot. _"What happened to your acting dude? You're not doing so well right now you know!"_ He still says nothing.

"Stan? What's wrong?" A worried voice says softly. My body jolts again bringing Damien back to conscious. Kyle looks at me, half worried, half confused. Goddamn it Damien.

"Sorry…" My voice says weakly. …What is he doing? "I actually don't feel so good. I think I'm getting sick." Damien takes a step back, one foot out of the room. "Don't want you getting it."

Kyle's voice calling my name is cut off by the sound of the door sliding to a close.

…What the fuck?

"_Damien what the fuck was that?"_ I shout at him, confused and frustrated. _"Don't tell me you can only act around parents."_ I growl. But he doesn't say anything. He completely ignores me, drifting away from the external world as he walks out the hospital, which is weird because the one _literally_ in the internal world, is me.

He stays silent the whole way home until he finally collapses onto my bed and breathes out into the pillow as if that small trip had completely worn him out. I wait frustratingly for him to say something. I feel like tapping my foot for the effect, if I had the freedom.

Than he finally speaks, keeping my face still dug into the pillow. _"I'm not going back."_

"_What?"_ I blurt out quietly.

He sighs one last time into the softness and raises my face out of the fabric. _"Do you have allergies to hospitals or something? I suddenly felt sick the moment I stepped in the hospital room."_

"_Well, I kinda got used to it after a while. But that's no reason to not visit Kyle! I've always visited him. He'll get suspicious!" _

"_You didn't go when you got sick and became paranoid that he might catch it off you."_ He states. "_I told him I felt sick. He won't suspect a thing."_ And he digs my head back into the pillow, letting himself relax.

I can't hide my irritation towards him, lying down there like a confused and exhausted little kid.

"_Well School starts in less than a week. So you'll be forced to face them then."_ I challenge him coolly.

"I know." He mutters out loud, more to himself than me.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Man changing the font to italic for the dialogue between Damien and Stan is annoying as hell. I think this story is going to be shorter than I expected. Maybe. Well, off to school in the next chapter! I think. Oh this is so fun!<strong>

**And just to say, Stan's fantasising of the kiss in the past is relevant… to an extent. It is not just a filler! **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N- Another fast update. What is this? It's all thanks to you guys: styleforever20, OXRosinaOX, GreedyEmo and WxTxR! **

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I did it in two days, which is impressive concerning my slow writing skills. **

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Seven: The first kiss.<span>_

"New Years was a disaster", is what I'd say. "It wasn't a problem", is what Damien would say. I tried my best to persuade him to visit Kyle, just to say a small 'Happy New Year!' and do a small count down together or something, and come back. But no. The only thing I could persuade that stubborn devil to do was to send Kyle a text message. I remember the whole text off by heart, only because it was so fucking short. _'3,2,1… Happy New Year. Sorry I can't visit. I'm still sick.' _I mean, the fuck? He could have at least used a smiley face or something! I can't even read the text without a monotone voice stuck in my head. Is he really trying to act like me?

"_I don't like using emoticons. It tries to give texts emotions that don't even exist there. How many people mean it when they say 'smiley face' or 'laughing face'?" _

"_You know, some people actually mean it when they type 'smiley face'" _

I don't even want to remember the long argument we had after that. The bastard hates losing as much as Kyle does, and nearly as stubborn, nearly.

But my biggest disappointment is not the monotonous text message he sent to Kyle, not at all. I don't remember a New Years that I haven't spent with Kyle. I just wanted to see the dude. Damien kept his word of the first time he visited Kyle at the hospital. He didn't go back.

It has been three days since that, and a whole week since I haven't seen Kyle. I know that I sound like a complete sissy, but I just can't help it. I finally began to feel the invisible wall between us break apart as he became better, but I feel like it's rebuilding itself while I'm not seeing him. Like time is passing ten times faster around me than it actually is.

So I am excited now to say the least. It has been three days, and today is the first day of school. I don't think I have ever felt so excited for school to begin; yet I don't think I have spent so much time away from Kyle. Okay here I go again, but come on! A week away from him now is not like a week or even a month away from him any years before. He's beginning to recover, gaining back his life while I'm not there and I don't want to be left behind on that process…

"You're doing it again…"An irritated voice groans at me through a mouth full of toothpaste. I can tell that his mind is still half asleep from the fact that he just talked to me out loud without noticing. _"Keep your mind to yourself. I don't want to hear your blubbering…" _I look at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing Damien. My eyes are half glazed over, eyebrows furrowed, toothbrush working its way through each tooth.

"_You've been brushing my teeth for five minutes, I think that's enough."_ I see myself twitch to a halt and suddenly spit aggressively into the sink. He doesn't say anything back though. Just rinses my mouth and heads out the bathroom.

Without any second thoughts, Damien pulls out my black jeans and slips them on, finds a black shirt and pulls that on as well.

"_Dude!"_ I tell him, taken aback as he begins to head for the door.

"_What?"_ He spits.

"_You're not going like that are you? You, I mean I, look like a complete emo or something!" _

He sighs and turns around, walking towards the mirror, and I bet this is his first time he even considered looking at myself in the mirror. He looks at my reflection boringly, and sure enough, all I see is black. He shrugs.

"_I don't like colour. Too stimulating._" He says. Stimulating my ass.

"_Will you at least wear another shade?"_ I plead to him. I went through one Goth phase in my life and I believe that once is enough. If I suddenly go through another one I think all my friends will think that I've become depressed and suicidal for no particular reason, if not from severe happiness from Kyle becoming better.

To my luck, Damien sigh and walks back to my wardrobe, grabs a grey hoodie and tugs it on. _"Better?" _He snarls. I nod, mentally.

I'm feeling restless the whole time he's eating breakfast. He eats like he's counting every single chew. I remember my mum telling me that I had to chew thirty times before I swallow but who the fuck does that? I tried to do it but I'd always fail after the second mouthful. I normally only chew about three times.

"_Damien, shouldn't we leave now?"_ I nudge him, but he barely responds.

"_If we leave in five minutes we will arrive just in time for the bus." _He munches.

"_Yeah…"_ I shift. _"But shouldn't we go early so we can like… _socialise_ before going on the bus?"_

He takes another slow bite. _"We have the whole day to socialise at school."_ …Touché.

Just as he said, we leave five minutes later after I force him to grab my beanie and my leather jacket, and arrive just as everyone walks into the bus. But then I feel Damien suddenly jerk to a stop. There, I _feel_ like I _felt_ again. And I notice why. In the distance, a skinny boy with bright red hair sneaking from underneath his green ushanka stops on the first step of the bus, pausing to look back at us, staring into my eyes with shining emerald orbs.

"Come on Stan! What took you so long!" Kyle shouts, still waving. The bus roars at us impatiently and Damien jolts back into a run.

"Sorry dude." Damien breathes as he passes through Kyle into the bus.

"Yeah. I thought you were still sick." He says, guiding us to our usual seat in front of Kenny and Cartman. I feel the atmosphere shift as Kyle makes his way through the bus. Eyes staring and some voices calming down. I especially notice the reactions of our classmates. I feel their throats block up with a flood of words to say to Kyle, but none of them speak a word. Just eye him like a zombie or some sort of holy being.

Kyle, however, ignores the change of atmosphere and walks straight to our destination. He plots himself into our usual seat and for that brief second, my mind goes blank, and I feel Kyle go blank as well. The usual seat… It hasn't been his 'usual' for a very long time. I'm surprised that it's still even reserved for the both of us. It seems as though that small act of sitting down is like the beginning of a cycle. Kyle's cycle of a new life… But that brief second stops like a quick click of the fingers and we're back to normal.

_I feel a sudden nudge at my mind. "What was that?"_ Damien hisses.

"_What was what?" _I ask lightly.

"_That! Your mind just went pitch black for a second."_ He spits.

I widen my eyes impressively. _"Did it?"_

My vision narrows at Kyle and I notice that Damien's glaring. He clicks his tongue. _"Forget it."_ He says. What the hell?

"Dude, are you gonna sit?" A voice clears my vision and both Damien and I snap out of our thoughts.

"What?" Damien asks dumbly. Kyle narrows his eyes.

"Sit!" He demands and pulls Damien by the hand, forcing him down onto the seat next to him. But Damien loses his balance at the sudden tug and ends up half-crashing into Kyle, leaning over him, trapping him in his seat with my muscular arms. I feel my heart bounce and my face heat up, but Kyle only laughs, loudly, clearly into my face. I mentally nudge Damien and he realises his stance, pushing himself away from Kyle and fitting himself into my seat. Kyle's laughter slowly dies down until he lets out one last breath. I don't know if Damien notices this, but I feel Kyle's warm eyes on the side of my face. I may not be able to feel anything physically, but it almost feels like I've become highly aware of other feelings, like I've developed a sixth sense or something. Ha, what a joke.

"I'm glad you were just late." Kyle's voice says softly.

"Huh?" Damien turns, confused.

"Because I finally see you" He smiles sheepishly and brushes my hair out of my gaping eyes. Everything freezes, and I _feel_ it. My body, mind, the time around us, Damien. It's blank for that long moment. It's nearly frightening. I hear myself gulp and return to reality. Kyle gives us a smile and glances out the window. I don't know what he sees out there, but I wish he would turn back.

"I just left hospital yesterday you know. The doctor wanted me to stay a little more but I managed to get out early for the first day of school." His voice is cheerful, but by the way he keeps his eyes out the window makes me notice another meaning behind those words. I wonder if Damien notices them at all. I hope he does.

"Hey, sorry to barge in but why don't you guys just make out and get it over with? I'm kinda feeling uneasy with the secret meanings you guys hide behind your sentences." Kenny leans forward, planting his arms on the back of Kyle's chair. "That and I think that it would be incredibly hot."

"Sick Keenny!" Cartman shudders. "I swear to god if you assholes make out I'm gonna rip both your tongues out."

Kyle turns around and pokes his tongue out at the fatass provokingly, making Kenny cackle and forcing Damien to follow suit. I feel slightly relieved with the sound of my laughter. Maybe Damien has finally gotten himself to act like me around my friends.

x

I tell Damien when to answer and how to answer during all our classes. To be honest, the antichrist has much more knowledge than me and his mind works like a fucking calculator, so I have to tell him to hold his horses. But that keeps my mind occupied so it means that I don't have to suffer as much during the boring classes.

When lunch starts I find Kyle surrounded around his locker by a mass of people, which means no more than ten kids in this tiny school. I hear laughing and talking and I would have smiled, happy to see Kyle welcomed back so enthusiastically. But at the same time, I feel Damien cringe at the sight. He stops dead in his pot, glazing at the large group of people.

I see Butters' blond hair on the other side of the group, thanks to his tall height. Craig leans up to rest his chin on Tweek's shoulder boringly, but I see a glint of amusement in his cool eyes. Clyde and Token lean against the lockers, while Kevin looks behind his shoulder to engage in the conversation as he puts his books back into his locker. Kenny and Cartman are there, no surprise, with a smug on their face as they watch Kyle being surrounded and harassed with words.

I feel my stomach twist and my eyebrows furrow. I _feel_, again. But what is this cool and lonely feeling of isolation? My eyes shift away from Kyle and to my locker a few steps ahead. Damien stuffs my books in there and shuts it without a slam. My mind is pretty dazed by the confusion of the uncomfortable feeling, and I forget to say anything to him as he walks away from the group.

My thoughts finally kick in when he arrives at the back of the school, leaning against the cold wall. I stay silent as he ducks his head and slides himself down the bricks until he hits the ground. I'm tired of accusing him to act like me when he clearly has no idea what to do.

"_Why did you even want to come to school anyway?"_ I voice my curiosity towards the darkness. I don't expect him to answer me as he keeps my head against my knees, blocking out the external world. I don't expect him to answer, I was half muttering to myself anyway. But I sense something change inside him with my words, which makes my mind feel strangely soothed. Damien raises my head from my arms and looks ahead, the falling snow blocking our vision.

"_I wonder why."_ He mutters and smirks at himself, deciding to answer my question. _"Maybe I just wanted to get out of that god damned pit they call hell." _After that he digs my head back into my knees, but lets the tension in my shoulders fall. I don't think he hears the quiet footsteps approach him, or maybe he simply ignores them.

"Stan…" The voice says calmly, and my heart jolts at the voice. When Damien doesn't respond, he says nothing further. I think that he leaves after a long moment of silence, and I believe that Damien thinks the same too. He looks up to check that the boy has left and my forehead leaves my knees, but to our surprises, we find ourselves staring into warm emerald eyes.

Damien gapes at them, frozen where he is without the ability to look away. Kyle has the ability to do that. His eyes are so powerful. I notice that he's smiling, a little troublingly.

"You okay dude?" He breathes. The sound makes me realise how close he really is. I don't feel the warmth coming from the contact, but he sits beside me, our arm brushing against each other. He copies my stance, with his arms hugging his knees and looking up into my face. I didn't notice then, but it slowly creeps onto me, my brain telling me Kyle's warmth sinking into my side.

"Where is everyone else?" Damien murmurs, slowly working out of his freeze. Kyle's smile brightens at my voice and shows his teeth in a grin.

"They probably went to get lunch at the cafeteria."

"How about you?" Damien questions with a shift in his spot, lost whether to stay where he is or move away from Kyle's warmth.

"I have my own lunch my dietician assigned me with." He says, taking out a paper bag. "How about you?"

"I…" Damien stutters. "Already had mine." He continues.

Kyle eyes me blankly with an 'Hmmm', then digs through his paper bag. "Have this" He says, a bright red apple in his hand.

"You need it more than me." Damien says, concern in his voice. So now you try to act like me, huh?

"No." Kyle grabs my hand and wraps my fingers around the scarlet fruit. "You need it. Besides, I was looking for an excuse to get rid of some of my food." He squeezes my hand lightly before letting go and munching back on his sandwich.

Damien shifts my eyes onto the apple, the redness contrasting bright against the snowy background. He smirks at it, and drags my body a little further down the wall, letting my knees fall apart so that I'm crossing my legs. He throws the apple from his left hand to his right and eyes it amusingly, letting his left hand slide down onto the cement. His smirk drops and he makes a surprised jerk. He looks down, and finds Kyle's hand on top of mine. Simply resting there, skin against skin.

"You have no idea how much I wanted this." Kyle breathes and my vision of Kyle's hand on mine slightly rocks. Damien shifts his vision up onto Kyle's face, but his expression is hiding beneath his fringe. He rests his pale cheek on my shoulder, breathing deeply. "To come back to school, like a healthy normal kid. To muck around with my friends…" He shifts his cheek against my shoulder and his hair falls out of his eyes, revealing deep forest green. "To be with you…" He sighs.

Everything freezes with the time, but I see Kyle's face come in closer. His red eyelashes sew together shut and I know what he's doing, but I can't feel it. I don't feel anything, and that crushes me to no end. I can't feel it, but it hurts more than anything.

After a second he withdraws with a small breath and lets his hair fall over his eyes again. Damien watches him in silence as he stands up and rushes back inside the building. The devil is frozen, and to be honest I think I'd be frozen as well if I were him. I'm more shocked than Damien is.

For the few months I was together with Kyle before he told me that he was sick we hugged and kissed and touched each other countless times, but I don't remember even one of those times being kissed _by_ Kyle. Whether it was because he felt guilty from coming in between Wendy and I or if it was because he had doubt between us I don't know, but it was always me who leaned into him for contact. But just then _Kyle_ kissed _me_. It was the first time, and I couldn't even feel it.

We sit there in silence, the snow building up on my shoulders, until the bell rings the end of lunch.

x

Damien's silent for the rest of the day and I'm completely pissed at him. Yes I will admit it, I'm fucking jealous. The fact that it was _he_ that felt Kyle's kiss and not _me _makes my insides boil in an ugly way. So he's silent, and I'm not about to talk to him, which is kind of difficult with the fact that we live in the same body.

"_What the fuck are you dreaming about anyway?"_ I spit at him. Okay, so I couldn't keep myself from talking to him. _"Or have you never been kissed by someone?"_ I smirk, unamusingly.

"_I have done more than you'd want to know Stan Marsh."_ He spits back, sighing frustratingly into my palm. "Just… Not like that" He says it into my hand and it muffles against the skin. Nobody else notice the fact that he's talking to himself, but I heard it clearly. His last statement makes my inside bubble even more, but it sends too many thoughts and emotions through my explosive brain and I simply forget to say anything. "_Jealous?"_ He says as he used to, except for this time without any amusement.

"_No."_ I spit. Lie._ "He wasn't kissing you anyway. Even if it was _you_ who felt it, he was kissing _me_." _

He pauses with his mouth in his right palm and the twirling pen frozen in his left. It's so frustrating how we practically share the same brain, yet I can't read his mind. I expect him to come up with some smartass comment, but he doesn't, and just begins twirling my pen around my fingers again. He enters a firm silence, cold and hard as a rock. It turns some of my boiling anger into nervousness.

The bell finally calls the end of the day and the class bursts to life, every kid packs up and sprints out the door as if the classroom is about to explode any minute. Everyone except Damien. He stays in my spot as if he was the only one forgotten in time, staring emotionless at the twirling pen in my fingers. Then the twirling instantly stops and my fingers squeeze tight around the plastic stick. A sudden fierce shudder shoots through my mind like an electric shock. I don't see it, I don't feel it, but I sense his lips curl into a dangerous smile. It's as if he's in his own isolated world created by him alone, forgetting my existence. But I'm still here, my body is frozen cold, my anger completely cooled down in an instant with his piercing smile.

"I got it…" He whispers darkly to himself, and it scares me how I don't sense any trace of my voice in it.

Before I get another chance to shudder he jumps up onto my feet and grabs my stuff joyfully, he even pushes the chair into its place like a good little boy. That in that could be even creepier than the antichrist smiling evilly.

The halls are empty as Damien skips through, my footsteps echoing through the frozen air. He doesn't really skip, but the contrast of his cheerful spirits and my suspicious heart makes me think that he's as good as.

My feet slightly speeds up their pace when Damien spots three people waiting at my locker. Two of them nod in greeting and the shortest shoots his hand up in the air with a bright smile on my face. No matter how warm that smile makes me, I feel another shudder shoot through me. Somehow, Kyle waving at me so enthusiastically, with beautiful flaming hair, tinted rosy cheeks and sparkling emerald eyes, doesn't seem like such a good idea. I almost yell at him to stop, if I had control over my own mouth. But I don't, and instead of that, I end up joining the trio and making it a quartet.

"What took you so long asshole!" Cartman taunts as Damien swings my locker open.

"Sorry, just finishing up my maths." Damien says grasping out my bag and swinging the heavy bastard over my back. He grunts at the weight and slams the locker shut.

I hear Kyle chuckle under my shoulder and Damien tilts my head to look at him.

"And you say I'm the nerd." Kyle continues to chuckle sweetly, squinting his eyes playfully to look at me through his smile.

Before I realise what he's doing, and before I can do anything to stop him, Damien leans down and places my lips on Kyle's, lightly sucking on his cat-like rims. It last for a long second without my blank mind to interfere. He has his eyes closed so I can't even see what he's doing but I can tell.

The son of a bitch is kissing Kyle…

My eyelids finally lift open and I see Kyle's scarlet face, bright as his hair. Damien smirks lightly at what he sees and leans in again, slowly moving past his lips.

"I love your smile." Damien whispers breathlessly into Kyle's ear, making the redhead shiver under the deep voice. Kyle stumbles for words and shakes his burning face in confusion and embarrassment, looking down the empty hall for some sort of explanation. But nothing comes out past his tinted lips. Damien smirks again with my voice, but there's no venom in it. It's sounds as if I'm purely amused and dazed over the panicked little redhead. And I would have been, if it were _me_ who kissed him.

Bright laughter enters my ears as Damien pulls away from Kyle, cocking my head to look at Kenny over my shoulder.

"Kinky much Stan? Me gusta!" Kenny cackles. Trying to laugh and wink at the same time. It doesn't really work. I hear Cartman make disgusted noises in the distance but that doesn't really work either. My mind is a million miles away from them and all I concentrate on is Damien.

"_What the fuck was that?"_ I hiss deeply, my voice shaking with rage.

"_What?"_ Damien asks half-heartedly.

"_What the fuck did you kiss Kyle for?"_ I shout at the top of my lungs, looking up at the internal darkness in desperation to find any sign of the antichrist. But I don't find him. Instead I hear him smirk, almost like a chuckle, but this time mockingly, and much more darkly.

"_You wanted me to act like you right? That's exactly what I'm doing."_ Damien says, closing our conversation.

"Stan, what are you doing? Come on!" Kyle calls, waving his arm for me again. Damien smiles at the clueless boy and walks towards him, my footsteps echoing heavily through the cold corridor.

"I'm coming." My voice says, deeply, as if careful for Kyle not to hear.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- I liked writing it, but reading through it was pretty crappy. Anyway, am I going too fast? Oh well, thanks for reading! This is going exactly as planned, well, since I planned it during chapter three. I don't know when it might all fall apart though. <strong>

**Again, thanks for reading! Please review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N-Slightly slower update, but that happens when you are informed to write six essays for history in four days after having a friend over and watching about ten hours worth of South Park. The life. **

**Special thanks to OXRosinaOX, Rachel5M, WrecklessX, WxTxR, SuperDuperGir and styleforever20 for reviewing! You guys are awesome. **

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Eight: Slurping their eyes. <span>_

"_Damien, what the fuck are you thinking?"_ I hiss at him as he sips my favourite drink. Fuck. I can't even taste it.

"_I thought you didn't want Kyle finding out that you sold your body to me in exchange of Kyle's life?"_ He answers, confidently. It makes my words stuck in the pit of my throat. Because he's right. Kyle finding out is the last thing I want.

"_D-don't be a fucking smartass Damien."_ I try to hide my stutter. _"Tell me what the fuck suddenly changed your attitude! Before you were like 'Oh, I should act like Stan but I'm too emo I can't hang around those conformists' and now you're like, over-acting and exaggerating what I'm like, making everyone suspicious!" _

"_No."_ Damien emphasises, stop slurping his slurpee to concentrate on our mental discussion. _"You see, the only way to make sure people _won't_ get suspicious is if I act like a complete love-sick freak, exactly the way you obliviously are. Maybe you don't want to admit it, but I am not over-acting. This is exactly the way you freakishly act like."_ He sticks the straw back into my mouth and continues to slurp the colourful liquid down my throat.

I would have gritted my teeth and pinch my nose to calm myself if I had control over my own body. But I don't. So I just, don't say anything. What he says completely sets me on fire from embarrassment and humiliation. I mean, yes I love Kyle but I'm not lovesick or fucking crazy or anything! He talks to me as if I'm some sort of a romantic freak…

"_It's because you are."_ Damien mutters, interfering my thoughts.

"_Goddamn it Damien, shut, up!" _

He chuckles and continues slurping.

"Dude, maybe getting slurpees in the middle of winter wasn't such a great idea." Kyle mutters, sticking his red tongue out as he eyes the smallest cup in his cold hand. "Why the hell do they even sell these things during winter anyway?"

"Are you fucking kidding me Kahl! Slurpees in the winter is just… God. Seriously. Fuck you Kyle for not understanding this awesomeness, yet it is understandable that you don't understand since you are a Jew."

"Shut the fuck up Cartman!" Kyle shrieks, attacking the fatass' wobbly cheeks with the frozen drink.

"Ay! Stop that! Garh!"

"Are you gonna drink that Kyle?" Kenny stares at Kyle's drink with eyes of opportunity.

"Come on you guys. Cut it out." Damien says with a tired sigh, knowing that that small appeal made it unnecessary for him to say or do anything more until they calm down themselves. And I take that opportunity to interrogate him further.

"_What suddenly changed your mind Damien?"_ I hiss again. He stays silent, watching the other three tangle together into a knot. _"What made you suddenly so enthusiastic?"_ I ask again. But still he stays silent.

My eyes stay on the three attacking each other: Kyle on Cartman, trying to freeze the fatass' cheeks off and Kenny on Kyle, trying to reach over to grab the slurpee for his own. And then my vision begins to focus slowly onto Kyle, and then they stay there in silence for a while. I let myself engage in the sight, watching his ushanka slip and scarlet rings revealing from underneath, glowing from the light reflecting on the snow.

Watching Kyle, I begin to think that maybe I shouldn't complain so much or interrogate Damien about his sudden change of attitude. I mean, what he's doing is for the best right? Kyle, nor the others can ever know. And that's final.

My heart feels like it gives a sudden thump for no reason. I can sense two orbs stare at me a few feet away, and as Damien focuses my vision I see Kenny staring at me, his arms clinging around Kyle's waist.

"Are you gonna drink that Stan?" Kenny asks casually and my mental heart calms down from its sudden action, but on the other hand, I feel Damien tense my body up.

"Just a sip…" Damien says, hiding something shaky in his voice. He hands out the slurpee to the blond, who takes it energetically keeping one arm around the redhead protectively.

My heart still seems to be beating a little faster than usual.

x

"Alright Damien?" A fuzzy accent says and a golden curtain covers my vision as a smiling boy leans over to look into my face.

"Pip." Damien greets back and digs my teeth into the bright red apple Kyle gave me, or him a couple of hours ago. He shifts in his spot as Pip ducks out of my vision and plops himself besides the antichrist. God. I hope he leaves before Kyle comes back.

"I see you are controlling your habit. I must say that I'm impressed." Pip smiles playfully.

"I can control my red eyes if I want to. It's just that I don't need to in front of _you_." My voice mumbles as Damien takes another crunch out of the fruit. A heavy silence follows between them until Damien's chewing slows down to a halt. "How is my body?" He whispers under my breath carefully, as if he had finally gone into the main issue.

"It is fine, at least for the moment." Pip replies, just as carefully. "Just like you said, it seems to be frozen in time. It hasn't changed at all. I must say it's an incredible piece of work you have done there."

But Damien barely hears his praise. After he swallows the last mouthful of apple he stands up onto my feet and throws the core far ahead into the distant snow.

"I appreciate it Pip. Tell me if anything happens." Damien says again under my breath. Pip replies with a smile.

"You know. It's strange talking to Stan's face like I would to you, even though I know it is you really in there. It's like I have a new friend"

Damien smirks and walks towards the entrance. "See you Pip."

"Bye." He waves lightly.

But just as Damien rests my hand onto the door handle, it flings open, revealing a green ushanka with bright red hair sneaking from underneath.

"Oh, you're leaving Stan?" The last of Kyle's voice dies down as he spots the blond a few feet away. "Ah, hey Pip." He says awkwardly, slightly confused with his presence.

"'Ello ol' chap!" Pip replies with his brightly fake tone that makes me want to slap him on the back of the head. But Kyle simply shrugs and opens the door wide to let me through.

The second Damien slides through the door he wraps my arm around Kyle's shoulder, bringing him close.

"Ah Stan! Let go, you're so fucking freezing dude!" Kyle tries to push back, but he doesn't even try to hide the laughter in his voice.

"Noooo… you're too warm…" Damien moans as he nuzzles my frozen nose into the crook of Kyle's neck. With the sudden contact of icy skin Kyle gasps and thrashes around in Damien's hold.

"Hey you kinky bitches, care to make that a threesome?" A cheeky voice snickers behinds us, making Damien and Kyle freeze in their spot. "Oh don't stop because of me!" Kenny coos, battering his eyes at us expectantly.

"Fuck off Kenny" Damien groans. Great imitation right there asshole.

"Oh… so that you can be alone with Kyle and stick it?"

Damien opens his mouth to make a comeback but I tell him better. _"Give up. You won't win against him with dirty talk."_ He shuts his mouth acceptingly.

Using that short moment of his invisibility, Kyle wiggles out of Damien's grasp and lets out an exaggerated breath.

"God Kenny just Shut. Up." He says in between each breath. Then he gives Damien a swift glance, his face red from exhaustion and embarrassment, and quickly looks away. But that short glance somehow seems to move in slow motion to me. I notice the unreadable emotion in his eyes, something deep that I can't comprehend. I don't think Damien notices it though, or at least he's doing a good job on hiding it.

I try to ignore it, and I try to get it out of my head, but the emotion in Kyle's eyes that I couldn't read doesn't seem to want to leave my mind.

"_Damien."_ I hiss to him. _"We need to talk." _

"_Fine. Talk to me."_ He answers, coolly.

"_No asshole. We need to talk alone. It's important."_ I sense him tense in his spot. He must've noticed the seriousness in my voice. _"Make sure you do it naturally."_

I hear him let out an inaudible sigh then start feeling the pockets of my jeans.

"Shit." He says aloud. "I forgot my phone in my locker. You guys go ahead. I'll catch up." Damien nods at the two and runs in the opposite direction, towards the lockers. He comes to a halt once we become completely isolated.

"_What is it that's so important?" _He asks, leaning against the wall. I can sense him narrowing my eyes in annoyance or suspicion. I mentally sigh, slightly nervously before beginning.

"_It's been nearly a week since school started."_ I say as starters. _"And there has been no particular problems… except for the fact that you didn't know the rules to football."_

"_Which I know now perfectly, thank you very much."_ He spits. _"Did you isolate me just to flatter me? Because your praising isn't that 'important' to me."_

I scoff, but remember Kyle's eyes and turn cold.

"_Are you sure no one is going to find out about us?"_ I whisper to myself. He makes a sound of confusion and I sigh. I don't really know how to put my feelings into words. I try to calm myself by listening to Damien's calm breathing and spread my thoughts out like a map to clear out what I want to say.

"_Did you notice Kyle's eyes?"_ I ask him, finally, my voice low and firm.

"_What about his eyes?"_ Damien answers in his bored yet piercing tone. And I come to a halt. How to explain those eyes, that's hard.

"_I don't know… They just don't seem, right." _

"_Does he seem suspicious?"_ His voice suddenly turns a tone deeper, more serious.

"_No, no!"_ I burst automatically. _"It's not that, it's just… You know, I seriously don't know. And maybe that's what I'm concerned about. I couldn't read his emotions."_ He doesn't say anything. Waiting for me to continue, perhaps. But I don't have anything else to give him. _"You know, just, watch out for him. That's all I'm saying."_ I finally say in defeat. Honestly, that is all that I can say now.

Damien stays still, leaning against the wall, my vision still narrowed sharply as if he's thinking.

"_Kyle isn't who I would be concerned about."_ Damien murmurs, coming out of thought. His words catch my instant attention then drown me in confusion.

"_Wh-what do you mean?"_ If my heart were to beat to my feelings, it would be rapidly thumping against my ribs, echoing my pulse in my head. If my lungs were to breathe with my emotions, they would be working as if I've just run a 1000 metre marathon. _"Who…?"_ I say again. But he stays silent as if he hadn't heard my question, and glares into the atmosphere. But I know he had heard me. I know he's just considering whether to tell me or not, and that makes me even more anxious.

"_Kenny."_ He says, he simply says._ "I would be more concerned of Kenny."_

"_Kenny?"_ I blurt out, released from tension_. "Why Kenny? He's just his usual perverted self! There's nothing suspecting in him."_ Thank god for that. For a second there I thought he was _actually_ going to say something much more serious. _"But why do you think so?" I ask just in case._

I think Damien notices the lack of seriousness and concern in his voice; he seems pissed off.

"_Kenny is one of the people I spend most my time with, even more than Pip, considering the amount of times he has come to hell. He usually comes to my place when he falls." _

"_How does that make you so concerned about him?"_ I ask curiously.

"_It means that he is the person who has the most interactions with me, and knows me the best, after Pip."_ His voice lowers again. _"And he may not show it, but he has the strong ability to look through people. You would know this more than anyone. I'm simply saying that you shouldn't underestimate him."_

And with that, he leans off the wall and heads down the corridor in search for my phone, leaving me in a confused daze.

…Ha- Yeah, Kenny and Kyle may get suspicious if Damien goes back casually without the phone he was supposed to get.

x

When Damien arrives at the two's side they look at us with pointed lips.

"When you said, 'Go ahead', we weren't expecting you to actually mean 'Ha ha! Freeze in the snow while I take a million years to get my phone.'"

Damien shrugs at Kenny's dramatic acting and shifts apologetic eyes to Kyle. I'm relieved that Cartman isn't here. He would've given us the shits, or maybe just leave without a second thought.

The two guys mumble in annoyance as we begin walking through the snow. For a second, my mind shifts to Damien's previous words, and as if Damien just read my thoughts, he pauses my feet.

"_Are you feeling doubts now?"_ He asks me. I don't say anything. _"Is it Kyle?"_ I still don't say anything. He sighs and looks up at the back of the redhead. His bag looks like it weighs way over twenty pounds and he seems to be shaking under the weight.

"Ah!" Kyle squeaks and looks back in confusion. "What the-"

"Here." My voice calls and Damien throws something to the skinny boy. It's my duffel bag. "You carry my sports bag and I'll carry this monster." Damien says as he shifts Kyle's backpack onto my back.

"Dude, no way!" Kyle jerks out his hand in attempt to steal it back, but Damien rocks back out of his reach. "Stan, it's way too heavy! Give it back!"

"No, it's way heavy for _you_." Damien corrects with my voice. "It's nearly half your size and you're shaking under it like a starving slave."

Kyle purses his lips. "I need the exercise." He challenges.

"It will only break your back." Damien says, then smiles, as he knows that he's won.

"Come on." Kenny interferes as Kyle tries to reply. "Just think of Stan's duffel bag as level one and your school bag as level eight of your rehabilitation."

"Are you saying I'm on level one?"

"Or somewhere along that line." Kenny shrugs and then bursts into laughter as Kyle swings my duffel bag at him.

"Fuck you."

"Don't mind if I do"

Kyle lets out and aggravated sigh and stomps his boots through the snow.

He stops when our feet finally hit the pavement, looking curiously through the window of Harbuck's.

"Dude, my shout. Hit me. What do you guys want?" Kyle turns energetically at the entrance of Harbucks, leaving the electric doors lost on whether to close or stay open.

"Oh, seriously? Awesome!" Kenny's joy is melting off his words. "Ah. Get me a large 'cino- actually make that a Venti, and a sandwich."

"You know nothing of the word 'modesty' do you Ken?"

"Not in my dictionary dude." Kenny shrugs then frowns. "No, _really_ it isn't"

Kyle sighs, muttering something about 'Venti' not even making sense as a size name, and turns to me.

"How about you?"

"Ah… no thanks." Damien mutters. But his answer doesn't seem to satisfy Kyle.

"Dude, this is for you carrying my bitch of a bag, now order up!"

Damien chuckles subtly at the redhead's unreasonableness, but no one really notices. "Then just a small coffee thanks." He says. Kyle nods, a little disappointed, but enters the shop anyway, letting the door finally close behind him.

Kenny turns and leans against the brick wall of the shop, looking ahead into the far view waiting for the coffee and food. Damien does the same, eyeing the blond as he does. When Kenny doesn't give us a suspicious look, and when he doesn't even seem to notice Damien's gaze, Damien finally releases his tension and relaxes my body into the wall.

Waiting for a warm cup of coffee seems to make the cold twice as harsh, even though I can't feel anything I can still sense it, and Damien's caution for Kenny isn't doing anything to help me feel at ease. And when Kenny suddenly opens his mouth I feel myself jump inside while Damien does well hiding the sense of alarm.

"Is something up man?" Is what Kenny says.

"What?" Damien gulps a chunk in my throat. "What do you mean?"

"Just the way you look at Kyle... it seems- different?" Kenny cocks his head and makes his blue eyes turn a shade darker under the shadow of his pale hair. I feel uneasy under his gaze, and I'm so glad for the first time that it's Damien controlling my body and not me. I probably would have been busted ages ago if it wasn't for Damien's 'brilliant' acting.

"_What is it with you guys reading each other's minds?"_ Damien complains at me. I don't say anything, lost in a blank, and Damien gives up on hearing anything from me.

"What? Like you don't feel the 'dreamy love' overflowing from my eyes?" The antichrist breathes a chuckle as he jokes, doing his best to hide the troubled sound behind his voice.

"Nah, not that. It's just-" Kenny sighs and leans deeper into the wall, then suddenly jerks up and digs his hand under his orange hood, messing his hair up aggravatingly. He stops and sinks his hands into his pockets as he relaxes back into the wall, letting out another sigh. "I don't know. Don't make me sound like a queer man, I don't wanna keep talking 'bout your eyes or the 'dreamy love' hiding in them." He ends with another sigh and looks away, rubbing his cheek with his shoulder.

The frustration in him seems real, there is something tearing him inside, and I finally notice why Damien feels so worried about him. I can't even seem to joke 'Ha ha, coming from the master of flirtation with all sexes' in my head. I just hope that his frustration is coming from something completely irrelevant, and not because of sensing anything different with me.

Damien stays quiet, looking into the distance provided for him to stare at. Kenny notices the shift of my gaze and follows suit, lifting his gaze from the pavement to the mountains hiding behind the snow.

God. Wouldn't Harbucks just hurry up and get their shit ready already?

Swift tapping on the pavement, I think my nervousness might have infected onto to Damien. He taps my foot on the pavement impatiently as if the time alone with Kenny is mentally challenging him.

With the sound, the two blue orbs focus back on me; I can sense it even without Damien turning to look at it. His tapping grows faster as the eyes stay on me, drilling holes into the side of my face. Goddamn it, couldn't Kenny be subtler with his observing gaze? But before the stare finally pulls Damien's plug, the blond lets out another sigh and looks away, letting Damien release the tension in my body.

"Hey dudes." A high voice sings through the air. Thank god.

"Well, Tweek certainly took his time making those friggin' coffees didn't he?" Kenny switches on his bright-yet douchey attitude as Kyle hands a small coffee to Damien.

"Um, it was actually _your_ fucking sandwich that he took the most time on Mr. the-word-'modesty'-doesn't-exist-in-my-dictionary." Kyle pokes his tongue out, eyeing Kenny in annoyance as he turns to the blond with his 'Venti' coffee and toasted sandwich.

"Thank you honey." Kenny coos, taking the food and coffee out of Kyle's hands. Kyle grunts, trying to ignore the blonde's playful flirtatious gaze. Yeah, I don't even wish to interfere with the blonde's playing. The second I think that I feel a chill. The bright, yet deep blue orbs shift over Kyle's shoulder and look at me; look at Damien.

x

"Oh Damien, I won't worry about it that much if I were you." Pip says, sipping his carton of milk.

"I'm not worried, I'm being cautious." Damien hisses. "And I can't stand him." He tries to bite down those words but they come out darkly.

I know, but I don't say anything. He has been showing his distaste for Kenny in his attitude lately, like the guy is eating him from the inside just by being near him. I even fear Damien's attitude sometimes; he's losing his calm and even if that's only around Kenny, we can't afford that.

Loud slurping comes to a halt as Pip eyes Damien blankly. He rattles the carton and stands up, walks to the nearest bin and sits back beside Damien with empty hands, leaning against the school's brick wall.

"I know how stubborn you are and for you to say _that_ much it must be eating you from the inside out." Hah, that's exactly what I thought. "But honestly Damien, Kenny is not psychic, and I dare say, he is not the sharpest tool in the shed either." Pip squints at his own words, feeling guilt from saying them. "Even if he knows the existence of hell, the Devil and you, I highly doubt that he will put two and two together."

Damien grunts. "You don't know Kenny McCormick." He murmurs under my breath. Pip doesn't seem to catch his words so he tilts his head in curiosity, but Damien doesn't repeat. He looks down onto the pavement with narrowed eyes and thinks, not letting me hear his thoughts. I don't like it when he does that, which is practically all the time.

The nearby door suddenly bursts open making Pip jump and Damien swing my head up to see an orange figure come out into the coldness.

"Dude, there you are! Fuck-" Kenny halts and notices the blond tensed up beside me. "Pip?"

With the call Pip swings to life, pulling his fake accent and a matching smile. "Well, good'ay to you Kenny! How are you I wonder?" He squeaks, his rapid heartbeat evident in his voice.

Kenny ignores Pip's panicked attitude and walks straight up towards me, narrowing his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He asks, trying to sound casual.

"Um, getting fresh air? Like I told you?" Damien says sarcastically, but without any venom. Kenny grunts.

"Yeah for twenty minutes." The sarcasm infects Kenny's voice as well. I knew it wasn't a good excuse.

Damien doesn't say anything. He keeps still, blank, and I even feel a little coldness in him. God, his paranoia towards Kenny is seriously showing in his attitudes. Kenny's eyes are equally as firm, but all his emotion is hidden. I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad sign, but I know that Damien doesn't like it. The antichrist begins to narrow my eyes into a glare.

"Er…" Pip stutters, trying to break the tension in the air and defend Damien after our small conversation about his suspicion towards Kenny.

"Pip, do us a favour and go away." Kenny says swiftly, not moving his eyes off Damien as he voices those emotionless words.

"Oh, okey-dokey Kenny, young sonny Jim fella me lad!" Pip calls, slight panic in his voice. He hops away, giving Damien one quick worried glance before disappearing behind the nearest entrance.

Kenny shifts his eyes over his shoulder, making sure the Brit had disappeared completely. "So… I didn't know you suddenly became best buds with Pip ol' chap." He glances back at me with sly eyes as he hisses. No humour behind his friendly naming.

"We are not 'best buds'." Damien spits with my voice. Not such a good attitude Damien…

"Oh but I did interfere you two didn't I?" The blond bats his eyes innocently, provoking Damien's bad mood, whether he's doing it deliberately or not I do not know. "I'm sorry, did I just bust you cheating on Kyle?"

Damien says nothing, but simply eyes Kenny with complete distaste. I have the urge to advise him to act nicely, but his attitude is creeping _me_ out too, a little. My tongue is tied.

Finally after a strong glare Damien shoots up onto my feet, deciding to ignore Kenny's existence and begins to walk past him.

"Hey, wait Stan!" Kenny calls sharply and rips Damien back by my arm, flinging me around to face him. And as he does, his eyes widen, with fear and confusion, and then they slowly narrow with anger.

"I knew it..." He hisses darkly under his breath. "Damien."

My heart jolts and begins to thump aggressively in my chest, that is what I feel. Thump, thump, thump, it echoes in my ear. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

But compared to my panicking, Damien stays relatively calm, only tensing slightly. He was expecting it, he knew it, wait, was he even trying to hide it?

"How did you find out?" Damien smirks, his venom finally showing in my voice. Kenny's eyes turn to slits with rage and disgust, even hatred if it's not too strong of a word.

"You should fucking see yourself in the mirror douchebag." He growls, and then suddenly shifts his eyes, slightly shaking. "Your eyes turned red for a moment when I swang you around."

"Oh," Damien chuckles sardonically. "Clumsy me."

Kenny's eyes shoot up again, glaring into me as if wishing to shoot lasers through my face. His hands grab onto my collar and pulls me down so our eyes come barely and inch apart.

"You motherfucking son of a bitch." He whispers dangerously, breath cold on my face. "Why the fuck are you in there huh? What the fuck did you do to Stan?"

Damien eyes him dully in nuisance, twitching my eye. "He's still in here. Listening to us right now. Feeling your hand tightening the material around his neck." The latter is of course a lie, but it makes Kenny's grip weaken slightly nonetheless.

"You-" Kenny shakes, and I am actually worried that he might explode any minute. He doesn't seem to find any words to continue his sentence with and ducks his head down, his hand still gripping onto my shirt. "Why-" He just manages to rasp out.

"It was a deal." Damien says coolly. Kenny lifts his face, looking lost and confused. No more passion in his expression.

"What deal?" He says almost desperately.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that." Damien says, my voice still cool. "It's confidential."

Kenny looks at me hopelessly, and then lets his head drop again, his blond hair working as a curtain over his eyes.

"It's Kyle isn't it?" He whispers and lets his fingers untangle themselves out of my shirt. "Fuck…" He breathes uneasily. His hand slides down beside him and he turns silently, dozed off into his own world as he begins to walk away.

"Don't tell Kyle." Damien growls with my voice, darkly at the slouched back of the hooded guy. But Kenny simply shakes his hand in the air weakly, dismissing Damien's words.

"Don't worry about me Dee, I won't say a thing." His hand falls back to his side. "He will find out soon enough anyway."

Damien twitches. "What do you mean?" He asks quietly.

Kenny pauses and looks above his shoulder at us, then sighs and turns completely. "Kyle may be an oblivious stubborn bastard but he loves Stan. You would be a complete retard to think that he won't find out. Even if he may have forgotten _your_ existence, he will still notice if there's something wrong with Stan."

Beside me, I sense my hand clench into a fist, but Kenny doesn't notice it, and I don't think that I'm supposed to either. Damien doesn't say anything, but simply glares at the blond with my eyes narrowed into slits.

"We should go back now before anyone else gets suspicious." The devil says, dangerously low.

Kenny smirks sarcastically. "Yeah. Don't want anyone else knowing about you or suspecting that we're secretly banging each other." Kenny turns and heads towards the door as Damien gets onto my feet. "I'd advise you to do better acting than what you were pulling on around me. You'd might as well just go right ahead and tell him that you're actually the antichrist possessing Stan's body."

"I know." Damien squeezes through gritted teeth as he follows Kenny's path.

"Oh yeah. And let me tell you one last thing." The blond stops his feet one last time, the air around him dropping a few degrees. "Don't you dare take Stan's body as an advantage to do anything funny to Kyle" His voice is dark and threatening, something cold that I've never heard in his voice before. But Damien only smirks at his menacing tone.

"…And what would you do if I did?" He challenges.

Kenny turns and slits his lips into a smile, his blue eyes dangerously piercing. "I will stick a vacuum cleaner in that mouth and suck you right out of him." After that he slides his feet through the door, disappearing into the school.

Damien stares at the door slumming shut behind Kenny. The burning tension in the air has instantly disappeared and is now turned into a cold and piercing silence.

"I'll keep that in mind." The antichrist murmurs in a playful tone and licks my lips dangerously.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading! South Park begins today isn't that party-worthy? This story may be shorter than I expected, which would be good because I'm aching to start this one story I have. <strong>

**Thanks again! Please review~**


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N- Hey, ha ha, slightly nervous. What can I say.**

**Thanks to: styleforever20, OXRosinaOX, Rachel5M, WxTxR, XWhiteRabbitX and Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi for your reviews! You guys help me write, seriously.**

**Warning: I've never written anything over a kiss so writing this chapter was kinda embarrassing. Nothing M worthy, not even in the slightest but, you know, yeah.**

**Anyway! Hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Nine: Sympathy for the Devil. <span>_

"_Don't you dare take Stan's body as an advantage to do anything funny to Kyle."_

Ever since that, it is like Kenny has become Kyle's silent bodyguard and _my_ silent observer.

To be honest, I feel a little relieved. It means that Damien has become more cautious of his actions, and that meansthat he doesn't do anything more than necessary to Kyle. But that means that I have to endure Kenny's glare on me, his icy blue eyes piercing through me, all the time. It is a miracle that no one has noticed Kenny's glare, or am I just being paranoid?

Yet that leads me to another worry.

It hasn't been one month since school began and already one person knows my secret. (Pip doesn't count.) It's only a matter of time until another person finds out, especially with Kenny glaring at me like that all the time.

"_Your paranoid thoughts aren't helping Stan." _Damien says coldly, shutting my eyes in irritation.

I sigh, and shut my brain out, keeping my thoughts to myself.

"Stan, you okay?"

Damien opens my eyes and finds himself staring into Kyle's worried orbs, the redhead tilting his head slightly to search my face. Startled for a second, Damien stays frozen, gazing into the emeralds, then finally swallows down something that was stuck in my throat and coughs.

"Yeah." He says with my voice, swiftly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Damien's answer leaves a smoky tone in Kyle's eyes, but he smiles nonetheless and rubs my shoulder comfortingly before he walks past. My eyes stay glued on his back as he walks away.

Damien draws a breath of white smoke, which makes the snow dance around rapidly in my vision. The snow is light, but is many, and it makes me believe that my vision of Kyle will blur out if I keep on standing there without catching up to him, staring at his back.

x

Damien said that I don't dream when I go into a sleep state. That was a lie. Because then what is this right now? I stare into the darkness with nothing to light my way. My way where? I don't know, but I just stare into the nothingness.

It is so empty, the black. And cold, even though I don't feel anything. And then I notice that it's not the darkness that is empty and cold, but it is me. _I_ am nothing. As soon as I notice that, the blackness swirls like a wild hurricane, howls like a hungry beast. The blackness twirls and roars and then it attacks me, enters me forcefully through my skin and into the pit of my stomach. I can feel it inject into my veins, rushing through my body, the overwhelming darkness filling my empty body, but it's not comforting at all. No, it's horrible. I feel like I'm drowning in it.

A sudden shudder shoots through me and I look down, my heart giving a quick shot against my chest. The darkness clings to my feet like hands, slowly sinking me into the black goo. I let out a shout as I stump my feet to fling the hand-like blackness off of me, but all that comes out are rasped breaths. The goo flings off, but they quickly form into hands and shoot for me again, pulling me quicker into the darkness.

I look up in desperateness searching for something to cling onto, to scoop myself out of the black goo. And then, almost painful to my eyes in this pitch-black, I see a small bright light, like a star.

My knees break through the goo as I dig my way towards the light, my only hope. My hands fling through the blackness like oars desperate to reach out for the light. It slowly grows bigger, but as I get closer I become more and more desperate. The black goo continues to rise, and now it is up to my chest. My hand reaches out for the light, and now it is up to my neck. I open my mouth to shout and some splashes and enters my mouth, making me cough on the cold, dense liquid.

When I squint my eyes open, I see my pale hand reaching out; my nails painted perfect black, and my skin glows because the light is just there, shining on me. But the light is not painfully blinding anymore; it's comforting. I can see what it is. But the darkness is up to my lips now, entering my mouth with each time I cough. So I open my mouth, my one last struggle, and call at the top of my lungs.

x

I'm released from my nightmare when Damien flings my eyes open, rasped breaths escaping my blocked throat. What a coincidence we both came to conscious at the same time, I think as I sink into my own relief of being back in reality. But I continue to hear my rapid breaths, as if Damien's emotionally unstable.

My hands dig through my sheets desperately sliding through the smooth fabric.

"_Did you just have a bad dream too?"_ I ask him, half-heartedly worried, if that makes sense.

"_Shut up."_ He spits, then he comes to a sudden freeze, my hand stops searching and my breathing comes to a halt. I hear a gulp in my ears, and Damien carefully pulls the blanket up, staring at something that's clinging onto my side. "Kyle?" My voice says, confused.

And there he is. Hiding under the covers, his thin arms tugging onto my waist, his long, yet transparent eyelashes knotted together his eyes shut. His chest rises against me with every calm and even breath he takes, deep in sleep.

Damien stares at him blankly, and sits up so that he can take a better look at the small boy hiding under the covers.

"_He does this sometimes. Sneaking into my room in the middle of night, I mean. "_ I explain, engaging in the sight. _"I'm surprised it took him so long, in fact." _But my stomach twirls strangely. He looks so vulnerable; clinging onto Damien so desperately, warm breath whispering through his pink lips. There are some things you don't want to share. This was my vision, only forgiven for me to see, and now Damien sees it, goggling at it like a stunned mullet. I wish I could close my eyes so that he wouldn't be looking at Kyle's vulnerable state any more.

My hand moves under the covers and moves towards Kyle's face, gently brushing his hair out of his eyelashes. A smooth breath escapes my mouth, relaxingly, as Damien continues to watch him. But then the redhead suddenly stirs, making the antichrist tense up.

"Nnh…" Something inaudible escapes Kyle's mouth and his eyes flatter open, revealing green. "Stan?" He mumbles, sliding his arms off my torso. He sits up, looking into the distance with dull eyes, batting his eyelashes as if he's seeing imaginationland cast before him.

"Kyle?" Damien asks, carefully. My voice seems to knock consciousness into Kyle's mind and the redhead swings his head my way.

"Sorry dude, I kinda sneaked in before." He says, shaking his head at himself. "I guess I should go, huh?" Kyle looks at the window with sleepy eyes, his brain clearly not functioning yet.

Damien continues to watch him blankly as he goes onto his knees and swings the curtains open, swirling in his spot dizzily. But just as his fingers move to the glass to open the window, Damien yanks at him, clinging onto his skinny waist.

"Stan?" Kyle glances back over his shoulder twisting his back to face me, light returning to his eyes with confusion and worry. Damien nuzzles my nose into Kyle's back, keeping him hostage against me. "You okay?"

The antichrist looks up, and I see Kyle's concern mixed with embarrassed pink lighting his face. Before I can protest, Damien draws Kyle down by the waist until our lips crash together. It is deep, not like any of those light kisses Damien has been brushing him with. It's as if he's desperate for Kyle's touch, for connection.

Kyle makes a noise in surprise, but slowly closes his eyes as his tensed body relaxes into Damien's hold, breathing deeply into my face. My tongue licks the edge of Kyle's lips and the redhead moans, opening his mouth to take a breath. Damien takes that chance to swing the redhead around to face him and deepens the kiss by sliding my tongue through into his mouth, tasting him.

I can't say anything to stop Damien. My mind has gone numb with shock, which gives Damien the freedom to push Kyle's fragile frame back down into the mattress.

"Stan-" Kyle gasps through the gaps created as Damien moves our mouths together. His voice is desperate, like he's drowning and pleading for help. Face glowing, eyes glazing, lips burning, he pleads for help. Drowning under the sudden burst of lust that has exploded inside Damien and is overcoming the redhead himself as well. But Damien hardly shares an ear. He aggressively travels my lips across Kyle's skin, from his lips, to his jaw and trails my saliva down his neck and onto his collarbone, where he sucks on the thin skin. It makes the thin teen shudder and tears a moan out of his clenched teeth. His desperate voice, to Damien, is like an invitation for more.

x

"_Hey Stan. Have you ever had sex with Wendy?" He asked me, carefully like a whisper, his eyes moving back and forth before landing on mine firmly._

"_No!" I burst out, nearly spraying my coffee all over Kyle. He eyed me suspiciously, arms crossed and a pout in place. It made my heart jolt, in a both bad and good way, but I tried to focus on the bad way since I didn't think it was the time._

"_Okay, maybe once, or twice." I said defensively. He continued to eye me with dissatisfaction. "Okay, three times. But they all ended up badly!" _

"_Dude, I didn't ask you how many times." Kyle said, releasing his arms and snickering. My face burnt, and I dropped my coffee into the grass and lunged at him, pushing him down into the grass as he continued to laugh his ass off. My attack sent us tumbling down the hill, grass spraying into the air like rain as we rolled over them. His laughter finally died down by the time we came to a halt, just beside the pebbles that led to the water._

_I was on top of him, my hands on the ground placed on each side of his face, my arms extending, securing me up above him. I stared at his giggling face and thanked god that there was no one around, which was not surprising for Stark's Pond._

"_Three times huh?" Kyle whispered from under me, his lips in a smile but his eyes glazed over. I continued to stare into him. "And they all ended badly, huh?" His hand rose towards me and swayed my black hair out of my face, carefully. "Do you think it would end badly for us too?" Barely a whisper, but I heard it, because his gaze was so doubtful, worried, and desperate. _

_I pulled my hand up to his placed on my cheek, and closed my eyes to feel the warmness off his skin sink into mine. I opened my eyes and met green, framed by the jade of the grass, but not oppressed because his emeralds were much more bright and beautiful. I leaned in and kissed him, bringing our hands in between our chests as I pressed against him._

"_No." I said when I pulled back. "No I don't." _

x

My hand slides underneath his pyjama top as my lips continue to attack his, my hand scraping against the milky skin of his stomach. Kyle moans breathlessly under Damien, eyes sewed shut. The fabric travels up his torso, my hands not holding the patience to unbutton each button gently.

"Stan-" Kyle muffled as Damien released his lips to pull his top over his head. Kyle's arms rose as Damien moved the top upwards, the sleaves pulling his arms over his head, completely lost of freedom.

I wonder what he sees in my eyes right now, because what I see in his eyes makes me want to punch myself in the gut.

Damien slides my tongue up Kyle's inner upper arm, right to his elbow bent above his face. Then he moves back down again, my tongue moving along his stomach, trailing along each of his ribs until he reaches his chest, making Kyle jolt at the sudden suck on his perked skin.

"Stan…!" He calls, in between a gasp and a yell. I feel like I'm shaking inside of this body, powerless as I watch Kyle being tasted by the devil.

"_Damien…"_ I finally find my voice, way too late for my liking. _"Get away from him._" My shaking reaches my voice, low and dark.

I hear a squeak and Kyle tugs his eyes shut, his teeth biting into his lips, shaking. My hand extends down, and down, until they feel fabric. Damien slides my fingers underneath and his pauses when he reaches elastic. Kyle's body tenses for that one second until my fingers slip through the elastic as well, touching sacred skin. Kyle moans into my mouth and shifts his legs uncomfortably as if to kick himself away from me, but all it does is move the sheets a few inches, and nothing else. His face is glowing pink, trying to contain everything inside him until he might explode.

"Stan! Stop-" He finally gasps, his voice returning to him, but Damien silences him by connecting our mouths again.

"_Damien, fucking hell STOP!"_ I scream in the darkness. My arms and legs are cut off of me, my mouth and tongue won't listen to me, and the only thing left is my voice but not even that is reaching the antichrist.

Kyle gives a sudden shudder underneath me and his eyes shoot open, his breaths shake and he freezes in shock.

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

I couldn't feel it, but I knew it was happening. How could it not? Kyle's breathing deepens and quickens its pace and I can practically hear his heart beat from here. The pink of his cheeks dye deeper into a hot crimson, eyebrows furrowing and teeth gritting.

"Stan, I don't think this…" His eyes are beginning to shine as they dampen, staring at Damien grind my erection against him. "Stan…!" He calls a little louder, beginning to squirm under my body. "Stan!"

"_Damien!"_ I yell desperately. _"Damien STOP! Please!"_ I plead, my voice shaking, but not from anger, but something much more painful and grinding.

"Stan!" Kyle calls my name. "Stan! Stan!" He calls my name as if calling for me to come to him, as if I'm not here, but somewhere far away. "Stan!"

A sudden lightning of pain shoots through me like splattering my brains inside my skull. My voice growls in agony and my body slides off the slender boy's tensed frame. My head crashes into the mattress, Damien digging my forehead deeper and deeper until I hear springs creak against my head.

"Stan?" Kyle whispers, no more desperateness shading his voice, instead, there is pure worry and fear. But Damien hardly responds, keeping my forehead grinding into my bed, groaning into the mattress. "Hey…" the worry in his voice deepens and I sense him crawl towards me doubtingly. "Stan?" He says one more time and rests his hand on my white fist clenching the sheets.

"Don't touch me!" My voice growls and whips my hand out of Kyle's hold. The sudden action shocks all of us, all three of us. Kyle stares at me with hurt in his eyes, Damien stares wide-eyed at my fist clenched against the sheets, and I'm locked inside here, frozen.

The room is frozen silent, with only our breaths echoing against the cold walls and entering our ears.

"I'm sorry…" My voice finally says, breathlessly, but sincerely. "I didn't mean to take it so far. I couldn't contain myself. I'm so sorry…"

For a second, I don't sound like myself at all, because he is not acting. I can sense that much. I watch him as he hangs my head down helplessly, nails digging into the sheets. _That_ is not me. _That_ is Damien.

"Stan," Kyle leans in to comfort me, about to place his hand on my arm but Damien shrugs it off.

"You should go now." Damien says quietly, exhausted, without emotion. It makes Kyle's hand pause barely an inch away from contact, before pulling back. "I shouldn't have stopped you in the first place. I'm sorry."

Kyle's lips tense, then they part to say something, and then they purse back together. He flings the window open and slides through without another word.

The air left in the room now is cold; I can almost feel it. And I'm not talking about the air that Kyle let in through the window. It's like he took something very important with him and left us here empty.

But what am I kidding? The only thing he took was himself.

x

"What's up with Stan?" Kenny says as he leans against Kyle's locker, crossing his arms and staring at my direction, eyes gleaming with suspicion and warning. But Damien ignores Kenny's glare, as usual, and slams my locker shut to head out for my class.

"…I don't know" I hear Kyle mumble under his breath. His gaze wonder onto my back and watch me as I silently walk away.

I don't even have the spirit to tell Damien to just apologise, beg for Kyle's forgiveness and just get to our normal lives. I can't forgive him for what he had done yesterday, to be honest I want to rip him out of me and send him straight to the pits of hells fire, but I just… I don't even want to talk to him. I feel hatred, anger, disgust, yet somehow a strange deep sense of sympathy for the devil. But the second I feel that weird pity the anger and disgust overcome me and I drown into silence. I feel confused with conflicting feelings.

You'd think that it'd be hard to ignore someone who's taken over your body. But honestly, if you're as pissed as I am, it's not that hard.

And besides, Damien is doing the same too. To me, to Pip, to Kyle and Kenny, he's practically ignoring everyone around him, with _my_ body. But still I say nothing.

A few days past with him keeping me away from everyone. Eating outside at lunch, walking home alone, keeping my mouth securely shut. Great. First he took away my colours and now he's isolating me from the 'conformists'. He's definitely on some kind of mission to turn me into some douchey Goth. But still I say nothing. Instead Kenny is the first one to break.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" He growls, glaring up into my face, teeth clenched together like a savage dog. Damien stays silent, watching him dully as if waiting patiently for the minutes to tick by. But that mocking silence only provokes Kenny's rage. His hand shoots for my jacket and his fingers wrap my collar tight around my neck, not caring for my discomfort at all. "I know you did something you motherfucker."

A sigh leaves my mouth as Damien parts my lips.

"What did Kyle say?" He asks boringly, not impressed with Kenny's rage. To this Kenny grits his teeth and ducks his blue eyes away from me.

"Nothing." He grinds out. His fist begins to shake. "He won't tell me"

A small smirk tints my lips but I don't sense my smile reach my eyes. "Then how do you know that I did something?"

"I know by the fucking way you two look at each other!" Kenny explodes, eyes wide with desperate frustration and anger. His breathing shakes his body and he waits for himself to calm down. "Or, the way he looks at you. And the way you ignore him." He says quietly. His fingers around my jacket unconsciously loosen themselves and Damien takes that chance with a frozen heart to flick his hand away and take a step past him.

The blunt neglect brings Kenny to conscious and a look of shock crosses his face, shock of hurt and rejection. It causes the rage to explode in him once more. His hand shoots back to my collar and turns me around aggressively, making Damien face the fire in his eyes. But neither the rage nor the fire seem to shake Damien's emotions. Inside him is cold and still, and Kenny is just a talking puppet in front of him.

"It has nothing to do with you."

The words slide out my mouth as emotionless as he is.

A spark ignites in Kenny's eyes. The rage shooting like a quick fuse across his body, reaching his free hand and it bursts to life. His fist rises into the air like a drawn arrow, his eyes glued on me as if not to miss his target. And then he releases his fist, letting it blast towards me.

"Kenny!"

A voice shoots through the frozen air, like a sudden light flash in the darkness. Kenny's hand pauses in mid-air, Damien flings open my eyes wide and I finally feel something that isn't hatred or disgust.

"Kyle?" Kenny says, staring dumbfounded as the smaller boy jumps in between Kenny and I. "What are you doing here?"

Kyle's green eyes burn like a bush fire, red eyebrows furrowing as he glares at the blond. "I would be asking you the same thing Ken! What the fuck were you going to punch Stan for!" His hands are up like a barrier before me, making sure Kenny doesn't lay a finger on me.

Kenny's fist completely slides down to his side along with the hand gripping onto my jacket. He bites his lips, thinking. Come to think of it, he didn't really have a legitimate excuse for a punch.

"Well he- he was being a dick!" He finally says, lost.

"Uh-huh? Well if that's your excuse for punching Stan then _you're_ the dick!" Kyle yells, chest rising with rapid breaths. That knocks the words out of Kenny's mouth, making his lips purse tightly together.

Satisfied with Kenny's silence, Kyle gives him a firm nod before his glaring eyes melt into a reassuring smile. The burning in his eyes softening into a comforting warmth. But when the silence is broken by the sound of crunching snow, his small frame tenses. By the time he notices and turns back, it is too late, and I can't see his shocked and hurt expression looking at me desperately as Damien walks away.

"Stan!" He cries. But Damien ignores him and continues to make my way through the white landscape of fierce snow. The snow is strong, and heavy, and I know that soon he won't be able to see me. He calls my name one more time, but even that desperate cry dies under the tearing shriek of the wind.

"Stan!"

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><p><strong>A.N- Oh no. I didn't just post that did I? I feel embarrassed now and I just want to go away and hide in the hole of shame.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! Please review, I've got like, four SACs ahead of me and I will be craving for them to keep me going.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey dudes! An update! For some reason, even with two SACs and a garble amount of homework I'm really happy and I wanted to thank you to because you guys make me so happy as well!**

**XWhiteRabbitX thank you so much, you do not know how much your review inspired me. I mean, not just motivated, but full on **_**inspired**_** me, so there are a few paragraphs that are dedicated to you in this chapter. You'll never find them but I'm just saying.**

**And OXRosinaOX, thanks for sharing your little story. I know how it hurts when you can't tell a really close person how you truly feel; only regretting it after it's too late. **

**And for all you other wonderful lovely, lovely, lovely reviewers, yes that you Raven Starhawk, Molala24, styleforever20, Your Fictional Affair, Rachel5M, Gleek1210, Atoxiclullaby1 and Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi, thank you so much! You guys are awesome, have I ever told you that?**

**Sorry for the long AN. If you even read ANs, he he. **

**Let's just get to the chapter shall we? Hope you enjoy~**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Ten: I'm okay, I promise.<span>_

He rolls from my side onto my back uncomfortably, my eyes racing through the words of the book aimlessly, processing no meaning from them. He continues to stare at the book stubbornly, knowing that his brain won't process anything. That is one thing I learnt about the antichrist: he reads a lot. It must have been from being alone all the time in hell. I bet he has read most of the books ever written on earth, and maybe a few that has been written in the afterlife. He reads like a friggin' scanner, I sometimes doubt that he's even catching any of the words by the speed he reads. He already went through my whole bookshelf (which is not that much), and this is the third time he's going through this one (Catcher in the Rye, yuck). Finally, he gives up reading and drops the book to the ground, throwing my hands behind my head and sinking into the bed with a deep sigh.

"_So- is that it?"_ I ask him dully.

"_That is what?"_ He asks.

"_So now you're just gonna lock me in here like a no-life pretending that you're so preoccupied by the books that you read over fifty-three times?"_

For a second, he stays silent, and I think that he's going to ignore me and my offensive tone like the asshole that he is.

"_I thought you were ignoring me?"_ He finally says, not ignoring me to my surprise. His voice is not as dull as mine, but is more, exhausted. I try to ignore the feeling of pity inside me so I scoff.

"_Well, it's kinda ridiculous ignoring you forever. We _are_ living in the same body."_ I feel like sighing. _"Besides. Ignoring you won't take us anywhere."_

To be honest it's becoming hard to ignore him, because deep inside, I'm screaming out desperate questions at him. _What are you thinking? Why did you suddenly attack Kyle the other day? What was that weird dream I experienced? Why do you even want to be here, on earth, if all you do is mope in my room and avoid people all day?_ We are sharing the same body, yet there is so much I don't know about him. And frankly, I didn't even care, not until recently. It's not like I want to understand him, I'm still too pissed for that. It's just, I hate these conflicting feelings inside me that makes me confused how to feel about Damien. But I don't want him knowing that, so I shut my mind out, nice and tight, the way he always does to me.

My eyes are staring at the ceiling while we are both in deep thought, deep enough that we aren't sharing any of them. I've become an expert of my ceiling over the past few days. He has the habit to stare at things, and most of the time, there is my ceiling in my view, especially recently. Go on. Ask me anything. The number of cracks, the colours and sizes of the stains, the noises it makes when different people climb up and down the stares, I will answer them all. God. What a joke.

"_You know you can't avoid them forever."_ I tell him. By 'they' there is one person that comes to mind, but I don't want him getting all irritated and ignore me again so I don't refer to him specifically. But I think he knows what's on my mind.

"I know." He quietly slides off my tongue, more to himself than me.

My vision shifts, aimlessly from my ceiling around and down onto my desk, and then he finds something. The sheets shift and the springs under me slightly creak as Damien gets up, my eyes still on that one thing. My insides gain warmth again as I look at it, but somehow my eyes narrow, ever so slightly. My footsteps seem to echo in this silent room as Damien approaches my desk and takes what my eyes were focusing on, in my hands. It is a photograph, magically protected in a frame, something very unusual for my doing. But the photograph deserves it.

In the photo there are two boys: one looking this way, smiling proudly with his thin arms hugging the head of a slightly bigger male laughing in his firm hold. The photo was taken after a football match, and the two boys are laughing ecstatically because the taller boy had won. The smaller one, who was only there for cheering his friend, seems even more proud and happy than the quarterback laughing in his arms. His joy for the taller boy gives life to the whole photo and makes anyone who looks at it unable to hold in a smile. That's why it's been in a frame ever since the day it was printed. Because over any other photo stuck to my wall, it shows how close the two boys are and reminds the person looking at it that there's no way to separate the two.

But even this photograph seems to have one person that it cannot cheer up. And that person stares at it firmly, eyes slightly narrowing, before putting it back faced down, sealing the laughing boys against the wood of my desk. My heart feels like it twitches throbbingly as Damien does that, and a new wave of confusion and anger towards the antichrist swells inside me. Maybe he didn't like the overwhelming joy beaming out of the picture, him being all emo and whatnot. But even as the frame faces down, he continues to stare at it, as if he can see right through to the beaming duo.

The air gets thicker as the time passes, but strangely, the time feels like it has come to a halt, like the tension in the air has frozen the world around us.

But then there is a knock. It echoes through us, breaking the dense silence and makes the world turn again. Damien finally lifts, or flings, my vision off the back of the frame and onto my bedroom door, wondering if that knock was just an imagination. But then it comes again: the soft and careful knock.

"Stan?" A muffled voice, quiet and even more careful than the knock, leaks through the wood of the door, making my body jolt in surprise. The unexpected voice freezes Damien and silence fills the room, until the muffled voice continues. "Stan, um- I'm coming in…"

Before there is even an answer, the door creaks open, just as slowly and gently as the knock and the voice. It sways open all the way, until it reveals the owner of the careful voice. A troubled smile tints his cat-like lips, wondering whether to be reassuring or to hide the nervousness that is flushing his milky cheeks pink. They break apart, and move to quietly say, "Hey".

My jaw is clenched as my eyes stare dumb-founded at the nervous emerald orbs of the boy standing at the doorway. Then my voice finally says as well, "Hey".

A small silence follows as the two stare at each other, praying for the other to look away first. But neither of them back down. Their gazes stay intertwined until Kyle's pupils begins to shake and he finally breaks the connection, chewing on his bottom lip as he drops his gaze to the ground.

I notice Damien releasing some of the tension in my body when their gazes break, but the second Damien notices his relaxed stance he tenses my body up again, standing firm and defensive. How ironic. I feel like twitching my nose bitterly. After what he did to Kyle _he's_ the one feeling defensive now.

The second I get distracted by bitter thoughts, Kyle takes a step forward, still looking down and chewing on his lip. My heart jolts in surprise, and although Damien does a good job hiding his sense of panic, he can't hide it from me.

But to be honest, Kyle's action startles me too. With each step he takes, the jitter in his dropped eyes and the mowing of his lips become more rapid. I can practically _feel_ his nervousness leaking into me, infecting me more than Damien's confusion.

And he takes another step towards me, and another, and another, until he comes to a halt. He releases his lips and his eyes stop jittering, staring at a spot on the floor for one last moment as he swallows hard. And then he looks up, his emerald orbs burn into my eyes, and I notice that he's only inches away from me. His breath brushes my neck, and I can imagine his racing heart from the speed of his breathing, heavy and fast.

Damien loses himself in Kyle's eyes staring up at him. So many emotions trapped in there, making his deep green glow overwhelmingly. And then I hear a slight thump against my chest. My eyes sway down and I find a small hand placed above my heart, slightly pushing deeper into my shirt, feeling my temperature. As Damien stares at the hand, I hear Kyle's breathing become more rapid. I can imagine the explosion of thoughts rushing through his head, but I can't seem to make out a single one of them. And I know that Damien can't either.

Then his breathing suddenly stops, as if he had just made up the decision of his life and began collecting the courage and determination to act through it. And after a long moment of complete silence, he does.

Kyle leans up, the fingers placed on my shirt entwining into the fabric as he moves up, until his lips reach mine. It is a light brush, as if just to make sure I was here, and the disconnection almost comes too soon. He drops back down onto the soles of his feet, but his hand is still on my chest. And slowly, I feel strength flowing into it.

His hand becomes heavier and heavier, and with my body like cooked spaghetti, Damien lets the hand push right through, making him sit back onto the bed that has been waiting patiently behind me. The springs underneath me squeak as another body leans onto the mattress, straddling my hips.

My body is frozen, _Damien_ is frozen, his mind tangled up in furious knots as Kyle sinks his warmth into my thighs. His cheeks are burning a bright red, and his eyebrows are furrowing in what seems to be raging embarrassment. But he bites his pride down and wraps his fingers firmly around my hand, gently bringing my hand up to let his lips glaze across my skin.

I'm surprised my body hasn't moved automatically. If normally, I'm confident I would have jumped him ages ago, not being able to contain myself. But my body doesn't seem to want to move. And it's not only because I have no use of my body. Even with the full control I don't think I would be able to move. The determination and concentration practically flowing out of Kyle keeps Damien frozen under his soft touch, and keeps my mind frozen too. But as Kyle continues to stare into my eyes firmly, the strong desire to let him do whatever he's is planning to do himself bursts inside me, and I can't bring myself to care that my body belongs to someone else right now.

After kissing each of my fingers carefully, he brings my hand to his chest, the sound of his thumping heart echoing though my fingers directly inside me. And he leans in, pushing me back into the mattress as he presses his mouth against mine. As his tongue slides into my mouth he slips my hand underneath his shirt, letting my hand caress his vulnerable skin just above his heart.

The warmth sinks through my fingertips and flows through Damien, and somehow, in the abyss, it reaches me. And I can feel it, I actually feel it; and it's overwhelming. It's as though Damien and I are connected, and I'm not talking about this body. I'm talking about something much more deep down somewhere where no one can ever see. Everything he feels I feel, and everything I feel he feels. And right now, all I feel is Kyle and his gentle warmth.

But then just as the feeling of the human touch sinks into me as reality, Kyle's mouth leaves mine. He breathes out shaky breaths onto my lips as if dying to say something. And then he says it.

"I'm sorry about the other day…" His voice breathes against my neck nervously. Half of me is killing to just reach up that small inch to press my lips against his, but Damien stays put, listening carefully to Kyle's words. "-It's not like I didn't want to. It's just you kinda…" He lets out a sigh that tickles my hair as he rises up a little. But as he does, he entwines our fingers together under his shirt against his chest, making up for the small gap he has just created.

"…Scared me." He finishes. I hear my heart jump at that those two words and my eyes widen at him as he continues. "You just seemed like you lost yourself dude…" And then he leans back in, bringing our lips back together continuing our kiss. But my eyes stay widened and my body stays tensed, until Damien's energy finally begins to flow back into my hand against Kyle's chest.

"It's okay." My voice whispers, gently against Kyle's lips. It pauses our kiss, Kyle's eyes opening in confusion. The strength in my hand gently pushes Kyle as Damien sits up, letting the redhead sit up on my lap. Kyle's eyes stare up at me, round and blank, and looking at them, a smile tints across my lips. "You don't have to do this." Damien continues, the small smile still in place. He slides my hand out of Kyle's shirt and wraps my arms around his back, bringing him close in a firm hug. "I'm the one who has to apologise. You don't have to do anything."

With that, Damien lets go and Kyle slides off my lap and onto the bed back first, looking up at the ceiling in a daze. Damien follows suit, lying back beside him, staring at the ceiling. And then to my and Damien's surprise, Kyle suddenly chuckles, and that chuckle slowly turns into a laughter, breathless voice echoing through the silent room. But then, just as suddenly, his laughter dies down, and his eyes return into a blank daze. The silence that follows is heavy, yet calming, and it seems to suck all the air out of us.

"I sometimes feel so alone lately…" Kyle murmurs, eyes glued to a certain crack on the ceiling. "Like I'm missing something really important. It's like, when you sit beside me, what's taking your spot is not you at all."

I feel my heart begin to thump loudly, but the pace is still steady and comforting. And Damien asks, "…What is it then?"

"I don't know," His high voice rises defensively. "But it sometimes scares me. Yet sometimes, it becomes comforting and warm. I don't know. It's just the unknowingness that scares me, I guess." He tilts his head and meets eyes with Damien, staring into my eyes coyly, a troubled smile tinting his pink lips. "It's strange isn't it?" He asks doubtfully.

To this, Damien smirks, "Yeah. That is strange." He says and sits back up, leaning my weight into my arms behind me. And then he looks down into Kyle's puzzled face, the smirk on my face loosening into a warm smile. "_You're_ strange."

"Shut up!" Kyle chuckles as he sits up beside me. He pushes Damien on the arm making my body rock to the side, bringing Damien to laugh with him. But my body doesn't spring back up. And when the antichrist notices, his chuckle dies down confusingly and he glances down onto my arm. Kyle's hand is still there, securing Damien in his spot. His thin fingers wraps around my sleeve, his nails digging in as his fist slightly shakes from the tension.

"…Are you okay?" Kyle finally breaks the heavy silence, his voice unsure. "Really?"

Damien tenses my lips into a frown, but relaxes them quickly before the redhead notices.

"I'm okay." Damien says firmly, leaning into Kyle so that our noses are barely apart. The emeralds glow, almost too brightly, but Damien doesn't squint my eyes at them. "I promise." He finishes with reassurance, and a small smile crosses my lips.

Kyle's eyes shine, then they quickly look down as his cheeks begin to turn a soft pink and his lips pout embarrassingly. "That's cool then." He matters as he jumps off the bed, not wanting to show his flushed cheeks to me any longer than necessary.

He crosses the room swiftly, staring at the small bookcase placed in the corner beside the door, pretending to be engaged with my books. He already read through my books about four times and I bet he has memorised every single one of them. But Damien doesn't say anything. Letting Kyle pretend to be distracted away from me, to let himself think, to clear his mind.

Again, his thoughts are completely cut off, not letting me look into his mind. But there is still something inside me that I feel. It is so deep; I can't really get a good hold of it. But as I concentrate on it, I get closer, and just as I think I have my hands on it, Kyle's voice breaks my thought and the feeling slips through my fingers and disappears.

"I'm going now Stan." He says, voice slightly jumpy. He rocks on the balls of his feet, arms tied behind him nervously. I look at him in confusion and notice the time. "I need to, ah… To say the truth, I haven't done any of my homework due tomorrow, so…" He nods towards the door, smiling in ask for my confirmation.

"Oh, yeah- um, sure!" Damien bursts in consciousness. "Sure, so I guess- I'll see you tomorrow, huh?"

Kyle's questionable smile widens into a pure bright one. "Yeah, dude. See you tomorrow!"

Without much of a pause, he rushes out the door and I practically hear his feet tumble down the stairs. God. He must have heaps of homework left over. The thought makes my stomach tinge in slight guilt. He must have been pretty stressed if he was unable to do his homework…

A deep sigh escapes my lips and Damien kicks the ground, rocking up onto my feet. He slides across to the window and leans out into the cold air, looking down to see Kyle jogging clumsily down the street. A small smile crosses my lips that instantly disappear into the coldness that attacks through the open window.

The window slams down shut before Damien turns around, sliding against the wall until I reach the floor. My forehead rests on my knees and Damien sigh into myself, deeply, in frustration. It suddenly makes me feel uncomfortable.

There are a million thoughts rushing through his head, I can tell. But not one of them does he share with me. They are locked up in him, deep where he doesn't share. But then the feeling, that feeling, it suddenly floods through me again. It is so overwhelming and this time, I begin to understand what it is. It is really deep, but it is there. It is that aching feeling that I can't really get a grip on.

It's somewhere deep in my chest, but it can't be, because it's not my chest now. It's Damien's. This stinging pain with gentle warmth digging through it, like grinding a scar wider, is Damien's. And there I feel it again, the sympathy, only this time it's not overcome by anger. It stays there, cold, and helpless.

"_Damien…"_ I murmur to him, automatically. But he doesn't respond. He continues to sit their, arms wrapped around my knees, head locked inside the gap. And there is nothing to make me want to force him out of it, so I keep quiet.

Just as I prepare myself for hours of moping in heavy silence, Damien springs up onto my feet. The sudden movement nearly makes my head turn, but Damien stays firm, something keeping him straight, determination flowing through him.

"_Damien?"_ Is all that I can say, and I sound confused and surprised. But again, Damien ignores me. He crosses the room to fish my leather jacket out of my closet and swings it on, followed by a scarf and my poof-ball hat.

"_Whoa, wait. Were are you going?" _This time, it's an actual question.

"_Pip's"_ Damien answers finally, tugging on some black gloves.

"_Pip's? Why?"_ I burst out of complete confusion. But Damien doesn't seem to notice my exploding tone and pauses halfway out the door, glancing at the bookshelf.

"_Wasn't there another book there?"_ He asks lightly, nodding at the corner of the bottom shelf. But I'm pretty distracted by his sudden choice to go to Pip's.

"_No"_ I answer with an irritating huff. _"Just tell me why the fuck you suddenly chose to go to Pip's"_

His trace of thought halts at my question, my body suddenly tensing, then relaxing just as quickly.

"_For research."_ He finally answers, walking though the door.

"_Research? What research?"_ I spit, annoyed. But my stinging attitude suddenly cools down when the front door swings open, stinging cool air attacking my skin. Something must have really screwed up. Although it is faint- and I mean, hardly noticeable- I can feel the bitter coldness. I can feel deep inside me, and I know that something, the connections between Damien and me maybe, have gone completely haywire.

Damien looks up, and I look up, watching the snow fall above us, swimming around us.

"_Research on what is keeping my body from not being able to stay on earth. To find out what kind of seal or magic is cast on me so that I can be free, in my own body."_ He voice trails off as a snow falls on my cheek and trails off as it melts.

"_Why?"_ I ask. And time stops for a brief moment as I wait for Damien to answer. Warm breath flows out my mouth and creates white smoke in the air, slowly disappearing into the snow.

"_So that I can leave you."_ He says, watching the snow fall. _"And so that you can be you, and I can be me again."_

But that answer doesn't help my jumbled up puzzle. _"No I mean, why have you suddenly decided to brake the curse, or whatever? I thought you were going to stay in me for a couple of years or something?"_

"_Why? Can't I change my mind?"_ He says with a cheeky smirk. _"Or are you too comfortable in there?"_

I scoff in disgust. _"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm sick of it! People not knowing I'm a different person is-"_ My sentence dies off under the sound of crunching snow and the scene that begins to move around me. The snow hitting my isolated figure as Damien makes his way through the icy whiteness.

"Yes." The devil says quietly under my breath, more to himself than to me. "Me too."

And with that suddenly, I feel like a stake has been nailed to my chest, but I feel more shock than pain. A spark shoots through my mind and I feel like I would swing my eyes wide in instant realisation. I feel more conscious, awake, aware, than ever.

Normally, I'm as dense as fuck, just not dense enough to be oblivious of the fact. But now, being inside here with Damien, I feel like I have understood everything. Why I felt that bubbling disgust and not just anger towards him. Why I felt so sympathetic and sorry for him. And now that I've realised, that aching throbbing feeling in my chest is grinding inside me worse than ever.

While _I_ have been experiencing small fragments of Damien's sensations, all this time, _he_ has been coping with all my thoughts and emotions directly entering his mind. Knowing this, I feel empty, because I think I know what that has led to.

"_Damien have you actually…"_ I ask him with painful sympathy flooding insensitively through my words. He doesn't answer, just continues to dig my way through the snow. But even without an answer, I think I know. And I can't help but feel helplessly sorry for him.

I wonder what it's like to hold the one you love and be called someone else. I wonder what it's like to gaze at the one you love and be gazed back by with just as much love, only knowing that that emotion isn't directed at you. I wonder what that's like.

Hey Damien? How does that feel?

* * *

><p><strong>A.N-Thanks for reading! My lovelies, please review! Every single one helps me write. Even a smiley face! But the more precious time you put in the more it contributes to my writing. But I understand if you don't want to…<strong>

**Actual notes on the story****- What Damien's experiencing, is what I call the Sada-Kaworu effect. (It's from the manga version of Evangelion when Rei's feelings for Shinji enter Kaworu.) I mean the term as being confused and developing feelings by directly experiencing someone else's feelings, thoughts or sensations. **

**Oh yeah, and if Kyle seems OOC and too angelised, it's because this is written in Stan's POV. And he's like, love sick so Kyle is naturally angelised to his eyes. That and mostly because I like it that way, but let's just say it's because of Stan. **

**I try to have a meaning and logical explanation behind everything I write, even the filler scenes. Just thought I'd put it out there. **

**Anyways! Thanks for reading my stupid author's note! Autumn holidays start next week! Yessssss…(Which means more writing! Yes I have a life…)**

**By the way, I love Catcher in the Rye. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N- Update! Finally and the holidays has begun! **

**Guys, I was so stocked last chapter with all the lovely reviews I got. I love you all so much for putting the time and effort into writing them. I believe that you guys contribute to writing this as much as myself with the amount of writing power you give me. So thank you: XWhiteRabbitX, WxTxR, Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi, styleforever20, Your Fictional Affair, raisuke143, absababs, RainbroStache, MusicalRose1210 and GreedyEmo for your reviews!**

**And let me selfishly say, XWhiteRabbitX, I don't feel obligated to do anything. Your detailed and wonderful reviews just make me so happy I just purely want to.**

**Your Fictional Affair, wow dude, thank you so much. I'm amazed at how long your review was (and Loren). I never heard of the Hunger Games until you mentioned it, but I think I'm watching it next week now. Ha ha.**

**raisuke143, to say the truth, I'm glad that someone wants Kyle to be with Damien more than Stan :) …Did I just say that?**

**I really want to thank all you guys individually, but this is already getting too long. I think I should start thanking with PMs but I know all you don't read them.**

**Anyway!**

**Reminder- This is fiction filled with my crazy and wacked-up ideas. It has nothing to do with ANYTHING, except the characters don't belong to moi. **

**Man, I am taking too much on ANs. I hope you guys are skipping this.**

**Hope you enjoy~ but unfortunately not so much Kyle in this chappie…**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Eleven: I'm an open book. <span>_

"_How about that one?"_ I ask him, trying to indicate the wine-leathered book on the top shelf.

"_Useless."_ He answers, not even looking up from the heavy book currently in my hands.

"_Okay- How about that one then?" _

"_Useless."_

"_That one!"_

"_Memorised." _

I growl in frustration and lean back, mentally, with annoyance. But my irritation doesn't even give Damien a nudge; he simply keeps flicking each page like a busy robot.

"_Why do you even need to go through any of these books if half of them are useless and half of them are memorised?"_ I burst.

"_Because it is important to go through information more than once. You'll never know what you'll find. Besides, there are some that I haven't yet memorised…"_ He throws the book behind after he reaches the last page, adding it to the pile of 'useful' books. _"You don't have to try and help me you know?" _He adds, scanning my eyes through the spine of each book and pulls out the thinnest one on the top shelf. The fact that he doesn't say 'because your contributions aren't helping anyway', may show his progress in politeness; but I can hear it in his voice, so it doesn't really help.

"_Yeah, but what am I suppose to do then? I can't understand anything you're reading; one, because it's Latin, and two, because you're flicking every page like the wind-" _

"_So you're bored."_

"_Shitless!"_ I add for emphasis. But seriously, we have been here for hours with no changing stimuli on my behalf except for the occasional appearance of Pip (whoopee).

"_So you want some company?"_ He asks with a smirk. My mind switches to denial mode, but before I can say anything, he continues. _"If you want a communication, that is fine." _

"_Huh?"_ I ask dumbly, not really expecting that.

"_If you want a distraction, then go ahead. I can multitask. Having a conversation with you and reading a book at the same time is nothing. Although you have to expect it to be mostly you talking to yourself."_ He snickers.

Half of me still wants to decline his offer, especially with his mocking tone, but the other half knows how much I would regret that from brain-numbing boredom afterwards. So I choose to accept his offer, in silence.

And I think, for something to say. I know painfully well that Damien is not much of a talker and trying to make a hearty conversation with him will be quite impossible. But there are millions of thoughts inside me that want to be spilt onto him, so it's not like I have nothing to say. It's just-I don't know how to _talk_ to him. Accusing him, commenting on him, hell even praising him on rare occasions are easy, but personal, intimate questions? That's another story.

So I stay deep in thought on how and what to talk to him, for what seems to be a very long time. And I can get that Damien got exactly what he wanted, me being silent, in one way or another.

And then I finally ask, with slight difficulty,_ "Why did you want to, you know, experience a normal life?"_

"_You mean why did I want to 'possess' a human? Haven't I already told you that?"_

"_Not really." _I lie. I just forgot the answer because it was a while ago when I didn't give two shits him. He sighs, but continues reading his book.

"_It's because I was sick of hell."_ He states simply, as if it is enough of an answer.

"_Yeah, but _why_ were you sick of hell?"_ I demand with frustration. Damien freezes my eyes on the page, sinking in my words. It makes me think that he was serious about ending my question with that simple answer. He wasn't expecting that I'd demand for more.

"_Why are you suddenly interested in me?"_ He spits, venom appearing in his voice as he becomes suspicious.

"_Because you-"_ _…fell in love with Kyle_- The words nearly spill out of me, but my mouth instantly shuts, catching my words at the tip of my tongue. _"-Dude, just… tell me, okay?"_

For a second, Damien stays silent, but then suddenly flicks over a page and stares at it. But I can tell that no words are entering his mind.

"_Hell is an- empty place. Filled with nothing but darkness and misery, pain. And I am its prince, being the son of the Devil, the King; I am the prince of darkness." _He flips a page aggressively with the bitterness rising in his words. "_Royalty in hell has no great differences from royalty on earth. We have to rule, we have responsibilities, and most noticeably by others, we have power and glamour. Everything that I ask for, even if I don't ask, is given to me with honour, respect and fear. And it comes with raging jealously and swarming desire. There are ones that want me, and ones that want to be me. They both disgust me."_ He spits the last sentence out with disdain, closing the heavy book shut with a 'thud'. He stares at the closed cover for a while, thinking, or trying to calm down. _"As the prince of darkness I can do anything, yet I can do nothing. And I can have everything, while having nothing."_ The distasteful words climbing out of his mouth makes me speechless, the life as Hell's ruler something beyond my imagination.

But then there is an image, of darkness. Empty, cold, darkness reaching up and holding me, pulling me down. My hand reaches out for help, a deathly pale hand with its nails dyed black. And I notice, that it is the nightmare that I had the other day, and now I know, that it wasn't my dream, but Damien's. Only, to Damien it's not a dream, but a representation of his reality.

"_So, you wanted to experience- what a normal life was like?"_ I ask hesitantly, nervous with the thick silence.

He smirks at himself, reaching up for a new book. _"It is cliché isn't it? The prince, sick and tired of a royal lifestyle running away to become a normal man."_

I chuckle weakly. _"Just a little."_ I manage out. He smirks again at my words as he opens the next book.

But somewhere deep in my mind I can tell that it isn't only the emptiness of a glamorous life that made him sick of hell. I remember his father, Satan, from a few years back. I remember seeing him a few times, and I heard a few stories about him from Kenny. He's like a winey little schoolgirl: gullible, selfish, childish, dependent on his lovers… I can just imagine the amount of attention Satan gives his child. I always considered my own dad as a complete retard as well, but he always gives me more than enough attention, enough to be annoying in fact.

"_It sucks to have a retard as a dad doesn't it?"_ I ask with a weak chuckle. He smirks in response, immediately understanding the meaning behind my comment.

"_Fuck you Stan."_ But there is no venom behind his voice, and I can sense a smile tinting the edge of my lips.

A sudden throbbing pain pumps through what feels like to be my chest, and I instantly know that it's from a mixture of pity and guilt. Honestly, I have no idea what it's like to be completely and utterly alone. I have been ditched by my friends and have been in huge fights with my parents, or even worse, torn in between the fights between my parents, but… I was never completely alone, even if I felt that way.

Without knowing my pity for him, or maybe he knows, Damien continues to turn the pages of the book, swiftly, indicating that he's actually reading now.

"_Why are you like, sealed… from staying on earth for a long time anyway?"_ I ask him, with pure curiosity, and trying to ignore the soggy sense of pity inside me. He hums in question, still reading the book. _"Like, did you do something wrong? Like, are you grounded or something?"_ The word 'grounded' doesn't exactly seem right for the devil, but I can't find a better word for it.

"_I said that I, along with my father, as rulers have responsibilities, have I not?"_ He asks, eyes still glued to the book.

"_Yeah." _

He reaches the last page and throws the book behind and grabs another, chucking it aside to the 'useless' pile without even opening it. He lets out a short sigh. _"About eight years ago, there was a war that went on between heaven and hell, has Kenny ever told you of this? _I nod mentally, remembering Kenny mentioning something like that. Damien continues. _"It was hell's complete defeat. I was away, in South Park at the time, and when I came back my father was outraged. He blamed me for not being there during the war, and his break-up with his boyfriend set fuel to his temper. Ever since then, as punishment, I have only been able to stay on earth for a restricted amount of time."_

Listening to his story, I feel like gulping, but with great difficulty. I knew that he was a complete douchebag, but practically hearing it from his son's mouth makes Satan sound much worse than I expected, on the childish and selfish, and now completely unfair matter. But even more than that, I shiver at the idea of a war between heaven and hell.

"_No offence dude, but I'm glad hell didn't win the war."_ I squeeze out nervously, my voice rasp. The antichrist laughs highly at this. His roaring laughter echoes around the still basement and I bet it's travelling upstairs to Pip's ears.

"Oh, I'm not surprised with _that_ human!" He cackles, palm against my forehead as if trying to restrain his laughter. The word 'human' somehow shoots through my chest, reminding me that he isn't one, but my mind is too preoccupied by his laughing.

His roars slowly die down back into its silence, and when his laughter dies down, strangely even with its mocking tone, I miss it. The silence left is just- eerie, in a way, and cold.

"_What did _you_ want then? You said you hate hell, doesn't that mean you wanted heaven to win too? Or are you just too pissed off about your punishment?"_ I say, out of both the annoyance towards his overly exaggerated laughter and the uneasiness of the sudden silence.

"_Me?"_ He says, another book landing on the pile behind me. _"I don't care whoever won. I hate hell, the pit of empty darkness and plain misery. But heaven is just as bad. It is also empty, with nothing but light and just-as-plain happiness. Misery and happiness both feed on each other, as do light and darkness, so without them both coexisting, there is nothing but emptiness." _He flips through a long book and pauses when the page lands on a picture of the world, one of the old ones where most the countries are stuck together like one large piece of land. My finger traces through the land, drawing invisible lines that indicate the present continents._ "I like earth, because it has both: light and darkness, happiness and misery, that is why I don't find it empty and meaningless."_

I stare at Damien tracing over the map. I know he's saying something important, the feeling is registering in my mind, but none of it is actually processing. I give out a long and meaningful "mm-hmm" and hope that I don't sound like a complete retard.

But even with his crazy insights, I have learnt a few things about Damien. Firstly, he is actually a very talkative guy, when he wants to be. And secondly, he has always been alone, except for the small amount of time he spends with the limey upstairs.

As the long book is thrown to the side the door bursts open, announcing Pip's appearance.

"Damien, I've got another cup of tea if you want" He says, hopping over as he kicks the door shut behind him, two cups occupying his hands.

"Thank you Pip." Damien says with my voice, taking the cup of tea. They both sip in silence until Pip hums in delight.

"So, have you found anything yet?" He asks, licking his lips.

"No," Damien rolls my eyes. To this, Pip widens his eyes in shock.

"But Damien, you've been down here for nearly four hours… today. You can't say you still have nothing!"

"I didn't say I have nothing." Damien glares. "I knew that it wouldn't be easy. The seal or whatever it may be would most likely be a combination of different spells. I just need to find that perfect combination."

Pip sips his tea again. "Is it as difficult as naming all the spices used in an traditional Indian curry?" He asks subtly.

"What?"

"Never mind." Another sip.

But Damien doesn't take too much notice of Pip's words. He pauses my lips on the rim of the cup, lightly breathing in the fumes as he sinks deep into thought. Pip notices Damien's concentration and stops sipping, looking at the antichrist with curiosity.

Slowly, the cup leaves my lips and Damien looks up, as if he is nearly approaching a realisation.

"Pip?" He asks calmly, still looking into the distance.

"What is it mate?" Pip's voice is careful and calm, fidgeting in his spot trying to hide his excitement.

"Have there been any railway constructions around here?"

Pip chews his lips and searches his memory. "No, not that I know of, I don't think. Not for nearly ten years. Why?"

"So there was one about ten years ago?" Excitement slightly tints my quiet voice.

"Yeah, about eight- years ago? Why?"

"Is the railway working? Do they use it now?"

"No," Pip scoffs. "The design was stupid and it only connected the small towns in Park County. Why?"

For a second, Damien thinks, my finger and my thumb cupping my chin thoughtfully as he sinks in Pip's words.

"Do you know where I can find news articles from eight years ago?" Damien's eyes search the ground, still half in thought even as he questions Pip.

"Well sure. I think you can find them on the Internet or at the local library- but why?"

Damien finally meets Pip's gaze, the blonde's hazel-green eyes bright with slight frustration for his unanswered questions. "Because I think I might have an idea." He whispers. My eyes move to the corner of the basement, Damien's body still lying there lifelessly. "Look," Damien says. "Eight years ago when I became unable to stay on earth for a long time, I don't remember anything actually been done to me."

Pip blinks. "You mean to say, you don't have an actual spell cast directly on you?" He asks.

"Yes."

"And you think that the abandoned railway has something to do with your seal?"

"There is a possibility." Damien says. "A very high possibility. In fact, definite. I just hope there is nothing more than that. Nothing more complicated-"

Damien's last word gets cut off by the fierce ring of the doorbell echoing upstairs. Instantly both boys look up, the tight tension in the room suddenly breaking.

"I wonder who that may be." Pip says as he gives Damien a quick glance before opening the basement door. "You stay." He whispers as he shuts it.

"'_You stay.'"_ I mock with a snicker.

"_Shut up"_ Damien spits and concentrates his mind on the ceiling.

Small noises are heard upstairs. I can recognise Pip's bright welcoming voice and a muttering of one other, but I can't seem to get my grasp on who the other is. Compared to Pip, the person speaks in barely a whisper.

A couple of minutes later, Pip comes back down, stirring a new cup of tea and humming happily. I bet that he's bit of an addict.

"Who was it?" Damien asks swiftly.

Pip looks up, pausing his tune before chuckling lightly. "Oh yeah, um, it _was_ a surprising visitor, I must say."

"Who was it?" Damien repeats with frustration, pronouncing each word carefully for emphasis.

"It was Kyle." Pip says nonchalantly, taking a sip of his tea. "I must say, Earl Grey is definitely my favourite-"

"Kyle?" My voice cuts in Pip's muttering. "What was he doing _here?_"

"You say it as if someone visiting my house is a disbelieving thing." Pip narrows his eyes.

"Yes, in a matter of fact, I can't imagine anyone coming here except for me."

"Well… you might be right there. He only came for something anyway." Sip.

"What would he want from _you_?"

"You say it as if-"

"That's enough Pip."

"Alright then. He said he wanted to borrow a Latin to English dictionary." Pip says with a small pout and gulps his tea.

"_Latin? What would Kyle want a Latin dictionary for?"_ I ask Damien.

"_You should be the one who knows."_ Damien spits.

"_Yeah but- He learns quite a few languages but Latin isn't one of them dude." _

For a second Damien turns silent, concerning my words.

"Did you ask him what he needed the dictionary _for_?" He asks Pip, who seems to have already finished his drink.

"No. I didn't ask him." Pip shrugs, sipping his empty cup longingly. His eyes suddenly widen with concern and dances up to meet mine. "Should I've?"

Damien sighs and slaps my forehead frustratingly. "Just forget it Pip, alright?" He growls. Pip shrugs.

"So, er, what are you doing now?" The blond stumbles as Damien stumps past him, kneeling beside the 'useful' mountain of books.

"I've done enough research here-" Damien answers, checking the spine of each book and throwing them to the side until he finds one thin book with a navy snake-like skin cover. He tucks the book under my arm, the half-full cup of tea still in the hand, and pushes past Pip to exit the basement.

"Is that all you need Damien?" Pip asks indicating the book, jogging to catch up. Damien sips on his cup of tea before answering.

"This is one of the only books I stole from my father after my restriction. And it is the only interesting book on seals."

Damien drops the heavy book on the kitchen table and flips through the pages. He reaches the end in less than a minute. And then he sits down in a chair, and to my surprise, returns to the start and begins again, more slowly this time.

Neither Pip nor I dare to speak or do anything that would break the antichrist's concentration. We just stare at him, in my case myself, stunned. So when Damien finally opens his mouth Pip almost jumps.

"Pardon?" He gasps, blinking a few times.

"I said, could you get me a map of Park County, please." Damien states, adding the magic word at the end.

Nodding repeatedly, Pip tumbles out the kitchen and heads for the lounge room. I hear books falling from shelves, the coffee table being flipped over and pens and pencils crashing down from desks, until he finally comes back with sweat tinging his cheeks.

"This is the only one I could find," He gulps down with a pant. He falls into the other kitchen chair and drops the paper on the table. "It's kinda old… It's the one I got when I first came here."

"So it's about ten years old?" Damien widens my eyes as he looks up at Pip.

"Ah- yeah…?" He nods with a frown. "Yeah, yup, that would be about right." He answers, not being able to hide his doubt. But I feel a satisfied smile spread across my face.

"Perfect."

"Oh, and just in case." Pip interferes Damien's smile and brings up a small laptop. "I thought you could check on the Internet for a new map, you know?" His panting finally begins to calm down.

Damien spins the computer around to face him, but ignores the screen. He instead reverts his eyes back onto the ten year-old map.

"Can you go get me a pen, Pip?" The devil mumbles. But Pip hears it and swiftly goes back into the lounge room, this time coming back in a few seconds with a red marker in his hand. Damien receives it without looking up, already preoccupied with the map.

The seconds tick by and turn into minutes, and under this tense atmosphere and heavy silence it feels easily like an hour. Damien taps the pen on the table as if confronting a brain-twisting quiz. After another few minutes, he types something into the computer, a new map popping up, and he traces his gaze through it. His eyes dance from the screen to the map countless times that makes my head spin, until he finally freezes my eyes on the screen.

Both Pip and I notice that he has come up with something and the blond leans in curiously, glancing into the screen to search what Damien has found. But before Pip even gets a good look at the computer, Damien flips the cap off the red marker and taps blobs of ink onto the map, shifting Pip's curiosity off the screen and onto the map.

One two three four five, five red dots spread out on the map of Park County.

"What- what do they mean?" Pip asks, eyes dancing around each of the dots.

Damien pushes the cap back onto the marker with a clear 'click' and looks at his work. "Cemeteries."

The word pulls Pip's widened eyes onto Damien. "Cemeteries?" He repeats. Damien nods. "But those aren't all the cemeteries, they aren't even the main ones! How about this one, or- or this one?" Pip says as his fingers traces different cemeteries. "You haven't even circled South Park Cemetery-"

"Because they aren't just normal cemeteries." Damien cuts in Pip's excitement and confusion. "They," He points at the five dots. "Are pet cemeteries."

"Pet Cemeteries?"

"_Pet cemeteries?"_ We both ask at the same time. Damien nods.

"Elm Cemetery and Hathaway Cemetery are both normal cemeteries with a special area for pets. The other three are not shown on this map but they are there on the Internet, meaning that they were all built in the past ten years. They have a possibility of being made eight years ago by my father." My finger taps on the empty space with a red dot thoughtfully.

"But why pet cemeteries?" Pip wrinkles his nose in confusion, but Damien cuts him off, slipping my phone out and dialling some random numbers.

"I just need to confirm something." He tells Pip as he puts the phone to my ear. I cut out his little call and stare at the old map, searching through the red dots. At first, they looked like they were randomly scattered, but now that I look at it more carefully, they look like they could make out a pentagon.

A few minutes later, after a few calls, Damien finally slides my phone back into my pocket. I didn't spare one ear to any of his conversations, but when I look at Pip's expression, I get a little curious. His face is all scrunched up, yet his eyes are wide like an owl.

"Goats, Damien?" He says disbelievingly. "Goats?"

"Yes Pip." Damien picks the red marker up and twirls it in my hand. "Goats." He says with a smile. "All five cemeteries have a buried pet goat. All burials about eight years old." The marker stops spinning and he flicks the top off.

"Are you saying that Satan sealed you with goat's blood?" Pip whispers loudly, gripping onto the table anxiously for no reason.

"Not only that Pip." Damien says, the marker squeaking as it traces along the map. A red line extends from one red dot to another, joining all the cemeteries. Only, not in a pentagon like I was expecting. The squeaking ends when Damien joins the last dot and takes the pen off the map. Now, in the centre of the map of Park County, is a big red star. "And then the abandoned railway…" Damien whispers as he places the marker back onto the map and draws one last line through each cemetery.

When that is done, it is complete. I hear Pip let out a soft breath and I feel a cold shiver creep down my spine.

"That is it. The Devil's seal."

And we all stare at it, the bright red pentacle glimmering on the surface of the old map.

x

The next day, that's today, right now in fact, Damien chooses to back up his speculation at the local library, looking through old newspaper articles. The library lady gave Damien a strange look before giving him the papers. I think it's the first time in nearly ten years that Stan Marsh has come to the local library by himself, without his nerdy best friend. And for what? Looking through eight year-old local newspapers? Yeah, I think I'd give myself that look too library lady.

I can still feel the lady's eyes glaring at my back through her thick spectacles, but I don't blame her. It's the first day into the winter holidays, well, Monday, and the place is nearly deserted. She has nothing better, or nothing at all, to do. But Damien doesn't seem to care.

In no more than an hour, Damien places the last newspaper on one of the massive pile of newspapers, stretching once in fulfilment, cracking my joints. I'm so glad the local paper only comes out once every fortnight. I don't even want to imagine the massive pile of newspapers created if we had one every day.

"Thank you, Doreen." Damien says with a charming smile, glancing swiftly at her name badge. Before she notices, he dumps the mountain of newspapers on her desk in one journey, earning an impressed gaze from the middle-aged lady.

Once outside, Damien makes my way home, swiftly digging through the snow, the cold quickly attacking my body.

"_So, I'm guessing you found what you wanted?"_ I ask him.

"_Yes. A few articles on the opening of three new cemeteries. A few months between each opening in an attempt to make the opening of three new pet cemeteries in the course of one year natural. As if anyone would care. And a few small articles on the construction of a small railway, strong criticism on it, then mocking how it miserably failed and had to give up the construction." _

Damien says all this in one quick blow, almost sounding excited, but it takes me a few seconds to sink in his words.

"_So- that's good right? It means your ideas were right, right?"_ Damien smirks at my confused tone and choice of words but confirms me nonetheless. _"Cool…"_ Is all I say in return. The whole 'Devil's seal' and black magic crap is still fuzzy in my brain.

As Damien continues to march through the snow the faint sound of heavy rock music whispers through the pocket of my jeans, making my phone vibrate against my thigh. Damien slips the phone out and answers without slowing his fast walking. It does seem especially icy today.

"Hello?" He says.

"Hello, Damien?" A jittery voice answers.

"Pip?" Damien furrows my eyebrows and glances at the phone but keeps his pace. My house, warmth, is just around the corner.

"Bloody hell…" The voice shakes on the other side of the phone. "Damien, Damien! What should I- or what should you- Damien- Oh goodness, fuck!" He bursts out almost in a sob. Wow, I didn't know he could swear.

"Calm down Pip, what's wrong?" Damien soothes, a strange mixture of concern and frustration in his voice. Deep and heavy breaths shoot through the speaker, Pip desperate to calm down on the other side.

"Damien, I think I… really _really_ messed something up." Pip squeezes out. But his panicked voice barely reaches Damien and it barely reaches me.

As Damien turns into my street his rushing feet come to a sudden halt, my whole body tensing as he forgets to breathe for a second. Because sitting on the steps of my front door, waiting in this freezing weather trying desperately to keep warm by hugging himself into a tight ball, is Kyle.

"Pip?" Damien mutters into my phone, cutting off the blonde's ranting. "I'll call you back, alright?"

"Huh? What- wait, no! Damien-" But Pip's distant calls is cut off by a small 'beep', and the phone is slipped back into the pocket of my jeans.

"Kyle," Damien gasps, jogging up to the boy cuddling himself on my doorstep. "What are you doing here dude?"

Kyle shifts his eyes up, the shine in his green eyes being disturbed by his white breath. His eyes seem to narrow, in what I would say a glare, searching my eyes.

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" He asks. His high voice somewhat low, like a warning. And to me, I _know_ it is a dangerous warning. When something is wrong, Kyle screams. So if something's wrong and Kyle's not screaming, then something is really, _really_ fucked up.

I feel my heart shrivel up in anxiety at his piercing eyes and low voice, but Damien manages to keep a cool tone.

"Dude, I like, live here? This _is_ my house." He says with slight sarcasm.

In rejection to my joking tone, Kyle looks down, locking his eyes with his feet, his boots shifting deeper into the snow as he lets out a brush of white breath that rises and disappears into the frozen atmosphere.

"But it isn't, is it?" A voice whispers. It takes me a long second to realise that that voice is Kyle's. He looks up, the piercing glare of his eyes now replaced with something more desperate and aching. "This is not your house is it?" He jumps to his feet, our eyes locking together perfectly with our same height, his extra few inches gained from the step he stands on. His eyes are still searching, and his body begins to tremble from the sudden cold, but what I notice are his lips, still and tensed. He nods at me, up and down, indicating my body.

"And that is not your body is it?" The quiet words slide out of his frozen lips. His trembling hands rises from his stomach and holds out a heavy book. Its cover is made of red leather, with a demonic symbol carved in the middle.

"Is it? Damien."

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Small note: I write Satan with a capital 'D'evil and Damien with a small 'd'evil. Don't ask me why.<strong>

**Okay, I did quite a lot of research on the geographical stuff and the names are actually named off streets of certain towns in Park County, but other than that, it is ALL MADE UP, because I am really not bothered connecting this to real geography. So yeah, just, bare in mind that the Park County in this story is pretty much a fictional Park County. **

**Ha ha ha, anyways, I'm thinking on writing an M rated one-shot for my eighteenth birthday, but dunno if I'll finish it in time. Oh well.**

**Wow, such messy and long ANs. I just want to shout "Shut up, nobody cares about you!". Anyway, thanks for reading! Me and my story will love it if you leave a comment!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N-Update! I got distracted for a couple nights writing a one-shot (don't advise you readinging it), but here I am! **

**Thank you so much: **

**XWhiteRabbitX (I'll try and protect Kyle from my own sadistic nature, he he he), **

**Your Fictional Affair (About the shirts, I think I'll rather have ones saying 'I Am Your Fictional Affair ;)), **

**styleforever20 (Thanks for rooting for Dams), **

**OXRosinaOX (Here's more!), **

**absababs (Thanks! I actually read that on my B'day XD), **

**Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Oh you, stop it *giggles), **

**Bookworm600 (I hope this answers your questions!)**

**for your reviews! Love love love! **

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Twelve: Breaking the thin ice.<span>_

The coldness is piercing; not a cloud in the winter sky to keep the slightest of warmth on the ground. The sinking sun shines from behind, dyeing the thick snow a mixture of all purples and reds. My long sun-setting shadow spreads across Kyle and onto my house behind him.

My heart is jumping, thumping, beating, flowing blood frantically through my body; I can hear it, but strangely all my body heat seems to be leaving me. My eyes stare into Kyle's emeralds, blinking restlessly in panic. And when Damien opens my mouth, he uncharacteristically stutters.

"Damien? Wh- what are you talking about-"

"Don't lie to me." Kyle hisses, desperate eyes narrowing into a simmering glare. It shuts Damien up completely. Kyle moves one hand from Damien's book and rests the palm on my chest just above my heart, and clenches. "I know it's you in there." His voice shakes.

My insides have turned to cold stone and Damien looks at Kyle, eyelids weak on my eyes. Both Damien and I knew this time would come, Kenny had warned us. It's just- neither of us thought that it would come so soon. My body turns lump in resignation as Kyle's fist clenched onto my jacket hits against my chest.

"Say something." He breathes. "Why don't you say something!"

My hand sways to Kyle's fist hitting against my chest, making Kyle's swing his eyes back up at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. "Kyle…" My voice is soft, and for a second, Kyle looks lost in it, until his eyes instantly widens and flings his hand away from Damien's grip, returning to the book.

"Show yourself." He whispers, slightly shaking, but his eyes are strong. "I need to see it."

Damien lets out a small sigh to the ground and then my eyes narrow, strong at Kyle as if to challenge him, asking him if he's really up to it. Slightly taken aback by the strong gaze but tries to stay firm, Kyle gulps a nod.

And then slowly, I hear whispers. A dark, barely audible chant murmuring out of my mouth. I lose myself in my own voice that doesn't sound like my voice at all, speaking a language that I don't even know. For a second, I see a dark illusion: my sunset shadow growing and morphing two magnificent black wings. But when I blink, there are gone, as if I had my mind had fallen asleep and dreamt for a millisecond.

But then, my concentration is broken by a heavy 'thud', and I focus on my vision and see Kyle. The demonic book in his hands had slipped out of his limp fingers and crashed to the ground, but Kyle doesn't seem to notice. His bright green eyes widen and his mouth is parted open, stuttering breaths leaving the small gap. He takes a step back unconsciously, in horror and dismay.

"Your eyes…" he gasps quietly. "They burn…"

And then like a flick of the fingers, just like that, everything turns back to normal. The foreign whispering disappears and the lingering darkness evaporates into the setting sun. Something seems to click in Kyle's mind and he blinks, once in bewilderment, returning back to reality. But he doesn't say anything, just stares, and I feel my eyes loosen, and my lips tense into a smile. A smile of defeat, and it makes the tension in Kyle's eyes loosen into an emotion more confused and conflicted.

"How did you find out?" Damien asks quietly, making the burning atmosphere return to the icy winter air. Kyle's lips shake to slip out a response, but nothing comes out, instead his teeth begins to clatter. He crosses his arms and digs his scarlet-tinted fingers into each arm, desperate for warmth. "Should we go inside?" Damien asks, the last thing we want being him freezing from finding out our secret.

For a second Kyle's eyebrows tense in an attempted glare, but gives up, and bobs his head in a nod.

We enter the house in silence, the sun finally setting into the night as Damien shuts the front door shut. Without a word, Kyle drops himself motionless onto the couch and Damien heads for the kitchen, preparing a warm cup of milk for Kyle. I would almost snicker, if it weren't for this situation.

I can hear Kyle's soft breathing coming from the lounge room very faintly shake, but it calms once Damien sits down next to him. Very subtly, Damien glances nervously into the Kyle's face, but the redhead flickers his head away before we get a chance to see his expression.

"Since when?" Kyle whispers, still looking away.

My mouth frowns in concern for a second and Kyle tilts his head back to its spot revealing his face. My heart lightens when I see he wasn't crying and Damien looks down to the warm cup of milk in my hands.

"Since Christmas…" He answers. Something flickers in Kyle's limp eyes.

"Since I became better…" He sighs an unamused laugh.

Damien stares at Kyle's weak, sarcastic chuckling and hands him the cup of warm milk. Something more Damien-like, and not me. Kyle takes it blankly, mouth opening to say 'thank you', but shutting before any words come out, something heavy in his stomach stopping him from being polite.

"I need…" Words flutter out of Kyle's mouth.

"Pardon?"

Kyle places the cup of milk onto the coffee table and slides his palm over his mouth before it drops to grip his knee, turning his body to face Damien.

"I need to talk to Stan." He says, more clearly this time. His eyes are firm and his lips are tensed, asking for the impossible. And I feel my stomach sink, Damien looking at his pleading eyes.

"Kyle-"

"Please!" Kyle interferes Damien's calm rejection, leaning over and grasping my hand in plea. "Damien, please. I need to talk to him." His voice shakes but his eyes stay strong, it makes Damien sigh.

"You can talk through me. I can tell you what he says."

But Kyle shakes his head frantically at this suggestion, gripping tighter onto my hand. "He needs to- I need to feel _him_."

My eyebrow flicks at his words and somewhere, I feel my heart twitch inside.

"It won't last long." My voice clenches. Kyle nods, still gripping onto my hand, and Damien sighs in resignation.

"On the twenty seventh page, the written phrase on the bottom left corner." Kyle takes Damien's book out and flips through the pages. "Hold my hands and say it into my ear, thinking of the person inside."

"Stan?" Kyle looks up and Damien nods. The pages land on the right one and Kyle traces his slender finger along the bottom left corner. His hands move back to mine, resting palm on palm, and then he leans in, right in until our cheeks are brushing.

And then Kyle breathes, right against my ear, to whisper out foreign words as gentle as a lullaby, so beautiful I almost feel his warmth spread inside me. It lasts forever, until it finishes too quickly. But strangely, the warmness doesn't disappear, and I flutter my eyes open in confusion. _I_ flutter my own eyes open.

I look down and see Kyle's hands on mine, the source of warmth, and try squeezing our hands together; my hands move.

"Stan…?" I hear a quiet voice call my name and I look up, Kyle looking deeply into my eyes.

"Kyle?" I call out his name, me, with my own voice; I call out his name in what feels like far too long. "Kyle," I say again, just because I can.

A shaky breath of relief leaves Kyle's lips and he squeezes my hands back.

"Stan, can you feel this?" He asks, entwining our fingers.

"Yeah I can feel it…" I bring his hand to my cheek and close my eyes, letting the gentle warmness sink into my skin. "I can feel you so close Kyle…"

Then I hear his breath shake aggressively behind my closed eyelids.

"Stan, how did this happen?" Kyle's hand clenches into a fist against my cheek. "Why did you do this?" He knows the answer, but he asks, needing to hear the answer from me directly.

"I just…" I say, my eyes opening, feeling my insides clench in nervousness. "Couldn't let you die."

Kyle nods, in understanding, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Get up."

"Huh?" I focus my eyes on Kyle's eyes blankly, looking at his eyes firm. He slides out of my grip and stands up, leaning over me.

"I said get up."

So I do, and I'm leaning over him. But before I know it, my world rocks, and I go crushing back down into the couch. A sharp feeling shoots through my cheek, not a pleasant feeling, a throbbing pain, and I look up in confusion.

In front of me, Kyle shakes, eyes glaring down at me, sparkling with desperate tears. Beside him, there's a fist shaking, turning red, probably from punching something. Punching what? Me?

Before my brain fully comprehends the situation Kyle leans in across my hips, hands on my chest and curling into my shirt. I don't get the chance to swear and interrogate him for punching me; my body isn't responding quickly enough for my brain.

"Why is he inside you?" He hisses, eyes hiding under his red curls. My body is reacting in so many ways right now, my mind filled with a million different thoughts. I feel heat flowing through my body, so I try and narrow my eyes at him to concentrate.

"It was a deal, in order to save your life. I had to let him possess you, but I made him possess me instead." The hands digging into my chest pulls, then instantly slams me back hard into the couch.

"Why didn't you just let him possess _me_? It's _my_ life, _I_ should be the one paying the price!"

With that quick outburst his hands slide out of my fabric and rises to his eyes, curling his fingers into his fringe and his teeth gritting dangerously. And he is crying, fighting tears of frustration and anger, and I can tell, relief and desperation. He shakes in his spot, straddling my hips, and the sight of him twists every single organ inside me.

I lift my arms and curl them around his back, tugging him close and firm into my chest. I feel his warmth, and I hope he feels mine.

"That's simple," I say quietly, feeling him shake against me. "Selfish, but simple. I just didn't want him inside you."

And then everything leaves me: the warmth, the shaking, the quiet smell of fresh apple leaking in his hair. And I am locked deep inside again, with lost senses. But Kyle doesn't notice. He continues to cry in my arms, shaking and sharing warmth, but not with me, with Damien. But Damien doesn't say a word, only flinches at the sudden senses returning back to him, feeling Kyle's warmth, and lets Kyle cry.

"How did you find out?" Damien asks, fingers stroking Kyle's hair to soothe him. With this, Kyle instantly freezes and pushes away, eyeing me in surprise and embarrassment.

"Damien?" He whispers, noticing the slight change in the tone of my voice, face deepening red. Damien simply smirks and makes Kyle's flush boil.

"Wow dude!" Kyle jerks off my lap and falls to the floor, hitting something hard and groaning in pain.

"Are you okay, Kyle?" Damien leans over and sees the redhead rubbing his ass. Kyle glares, but looks away with a pout.

"What did you say?" He grits, still looking away.

"I asked you how you found out." Kyle grits his teeth at Damien's speedy working brain, then nods in confirmation.

"I went to Pip's" He begins, returning to his spot on my couch. "I found the red book in your- Stan's bookcase. At first I thought he returned to some stupid Goth phase again so I got concerned and stole it." He reaches across to grab Damien's book and strokes the pentacle carved into the red leather. "But then- it was just too creepy. It had real Latin in it, and detailed diagrams and symbols and- So I went to Pip's, Everyone knows he can speak Latin, and got a Latin dictionary, just to find out what the book was on and then…" He gulps and looks up. "Do these really work?" His whisper is low and careful.

"Yes they do. If you get them right." Damien answers.

Kyle looks back down to the book, eyes widening uncomfortably. The book begins to shake in his unsteady hold.

"So-" He continues, placing the book beside him. "I got really confused, and creeped out, so I decided to go to Pip's and ask him about the book. I thought he could tell me more about it. I mean, the book could have been a joke, or fake, and I thought Pip could confirm me on that." His hand reaches for the cup of milk forgotten on the coffee table and sips on it before continuing.

"But when I showed Pip the book, his faced paled and he just- panicked! He asked me where I got the book, when I got it, how I got it- it was enough to make me suspicious. His house seemed normal at first sight, except for the leaking in the ceilings and the weird mouldy stench in the lounge room, but I thought he might be hiding something. I mean, he just suddenly came back form the dead a few years ago! How could you know?" He swings a hand in the air for emphasis. "-So, I asked him to make me a cup of tea, just to buy some time. And while he was making it, I sneaked around the house… until I reached the basement."

I hear a slap and notice that Damien slapped my forehead with my palm. "That imbecile…" He mutters under his breath. But Kyle doesn't notice, and continues, hands clenching onto the warm cup.

What he says next comes out as a whisper. "And then I saw your body, laying on the floor dead still…" He gulps. "So I left Pip's house. I bumped into him on the way out, he might've dropped the cup of tea in panic- and then I came here."

"So you found my body on the floor." Damien murmurs, and Kyle nods, weakly.

"That was a whole new dimension of weird dude. I thought Pip had you locked up in there for a sec until I noticed you were like a stone." He sips again, regaining his enthusiasm.

"I didn't recognise you for a second, though. It had been so long." He chuckles. "Sorry about, how we were like in elementary. We were little douchebags."

To this Damien slumps my shoulders and chuckles as well. "Weren't we all?"

A comfortable quiet with small chuckles fills the room.

"Sorry about Stan," Kyle snickers through his fist. "It was a pain acting like him, right?"

"What do you mean?" Damien asks confusingly.

"Well, he's kind of an r-tard." He chuckles again and I feel a rock hit my head in shock. I'm not an r-tard…

Damien smirks in response. "At least now I don't have to act like an idiot."

"Dude, Don't call Stan an idiot." Kyle glares, conflicting his earlier words, and I feel my heart flutter like a butterfly. "He's just not an _educational_ kinda smart."

"So he's stupid."

"No. He's just - a few marshmallows short of a bowl of Lucky Charms."

"Couldn't find his way out of a paper bag even with a map." Damien suggests, watching Kyle sip on his warm cup of milk.

"Has a four wheel drive but only three are spinning."

"Donated his brain before the body was done with it."

They both end up in a harmony of cackles and I'm left feeling like I have a meat loaf for a brain. But in a quick second Kyle freezes in mid-laugh, suddenly realising who he is laughing with.

A long, heavy silence follows, drowning the atmosphere into the reality they have seemed to have forgotten for a moment.

"Dude, I don't even know you…" Kyle murmurs, as if just noticing. His eyes grow round, but eyebrows furrow.

My lips tense and my eyes turn away from Kyle. "…You do." My voice whispers.

"No, I don't!" Kyle bursts angrily, leaning towards me on his knees. "I might have been with you for over a month, but all I've seen is you acting. Acting like someone else! Acting like Stan!"

The antichrist flinches at Kyle's words, but stays calm. "…Not all of it was acting." The angry tension in Kyle's face loosens in confusion, and Damien smiles. "I'd say you are one of the three people who know me the most."

A pout returns to Kyle's lips as he slumps back into his spot, arms flinging across the back of the couch. "There aren't many people who know you very well then, are there?" He spits sarcastically.

"No," Damien lets out a hard chuckle. "There aren't"

His words make the fiery atmosphere in the room turn to instant ice. Kyle's eyes widening at the sincerity of the words he weren't expecting. His mouth lingers open in shock.

"But dude you're like, the son of the devil. The prince or something." His arms slip down from the back of the couch, returning to his sides. And Damien looks Kyle in the eye, slight fire burning in my pupils, and smiles weakly.

"Exactly."

Another silence fills the air; it's happening a lot isn't it? The sudden change from fiery, to bright, and then to an awkward atmosphere. A whisper of breaths sway through the room mysteriously, and I don't know whose it is.

"Damien?" Kyle asks.

"Yes?"

"Is it possible for you to leave Stan's body?" And then he adds on, like a murmur, "And possess me instead…?"

"_No!"_ I yell automatically, knowing that my words won't reach Kyle. But Damien answers, instead of me.

"That won't be necessary." Kyle swings his head in bewilderment. "I'm going to leave his body anyway."

"Really? When?" Kyle asks eagerly, leaning over the couch again.

"Soon."

"How soon?"

A weak smile tints on my lips again, hearing Kyle's unconscious eagerness. "…Before the end of the winter holidays."

The answer drains the tension out of Kyle's body and he slumps his head with a relieved sigh, chuckling a bit.

"Dude, it's strange talking to Stan's face and actually talk to you. I don't know why I didn't figure you out earlier. No offense dude, but you're not such a good actor."

"Really?" Damien raises my eyebrows. "I thought I was remarkably talented."

Kyle snickers, then rocks up onto his feet.

"Well dude, I better go before it gets too late." He stretches with a crack in his back. He should do more exercise. "Say bye to Stan for me?" He asks with a troubled smile and a shrug.

"I will." Damien smiles. _"He says bye."_

"_Fuck you, I heard him." _I grit in annoyance.

"Well-" Kyle's voice interferes our bitter words and Damien looks up to see the boy standing in the doorway. "See ya Damien."

For a second, time stops around the antichrist, I can feel it. But quickly, he gulps, and returns to reality.

"Bye Kyle"

The door shuts, leaving a hint of Kyle's smile in the air, the warmness lingering around Damien.

"_Is it wrong of me to feel warm every time he looks at me and calls my name?"_ Damien asks, staring at the closed door. He is really smart I know that, but sometimes I think he still misses a speck of common sense. While he feels warmness staring at the closed door, I feel something cold throb deep down that makes me squint. It is something smeary and ugly.

"…_Yeah. It is."_

Or am I just afraid that Kyle won't call out my name any more?

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Yes I know, <strong>_**not**_** the best chapter ever but…ah, that's my ability for now. Oh, and just in answer to YFA's review, in plan, this story has three parts. Part one: sick Kyle, part two: Damien possessing Stan and part three: we are arriving soon! So we are way beyond half way, in plan. **

**So this chapter was kinda short. I had to cut it before it got too long. **

**Don't remind Kyle that every time Stan was kissing him it was actually Damien, he's trying to ignore that fact, m'kay?**

**Please review! Comments, punching, hugging! It inspires me! **


	13. Chapter 13

**A.N-Hello hello! Update!**

**Thank you:**

**XWhiteRabbitX (He he. I can get where you got the 'only friend' scenario from Truth and Reality. I loved your last paragraph, it made me smile. The Voldemort reference made me laugh XD)**

**raisuke143 (Thanks for loving Damien. I love him too.)**

**Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Hmm, I will try and make things better…;))**

**Your Fictional Affair (Damien has a spell where his body is practically frozen in time. It's in chapter 5. Violent little Jew is so cute :))**

**Absababs (I had a great birthday thanks! Drank sake in a Japanese restaurant and all. Yum.)**

**xXShirbellsAFanOfSouthParkXx (Te he. I'm glad you're in love with Style again! And I personally think this site needs more Dyle.)**

**I-h8-fish (Dyle **_**is**_** a random pair isn't it? Made possible by the crazy mind of fangirls XD)**

**styleforever20 (No more waiting!)**

**For your reviews! Yummy!**

**Hope you enjoy the chapter~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Thirteen: Dancing curtains. <span>_

When Damien flips my phone on first thing in the morning, he wakes up to discover that there are exactly fifteen text messages and twenty-three missed calls by a certain limey waiting impatiently to be responded to. I feel my eyes twitch in annoyance, but all Damien does is sigh and gets changed.

I don't talk to him much; I don't feel like it. I simply stare at each cereal bit slide into my mouth and listen to my slow chews carefully munching on each bit. Normally it's an agonising task that makes me want to pinch my nose in frustration from the slow chewing, but right now, I feel like I have all the patience of the world.

We leave before the winter sun is barely rising into the freezing sky and head for the worried blond responsible for all the texts and phone calls sitting un-touched in my cell phone. Damien ignores the fact that probably no one in town is awake except for him and eighty year-olds.

"Pip!" My fist clashes against the rotten-like wood of the front door. "I don't care if you're sleeping. You wanted to talk all night, desperately to be clear, and now you are getting what you want. Now open this door before I burn it down!"

The fragile looking thing creaks open slowly, revealing a sleepwalking blond hovering behind the front door, his hand unconsciously gripping onto the door handle as he snores quietly in his spot. He stands barefooted in a white nightgown, like the one those kids were wearing in the Disney movie of Peter Pan. Some strands of long golden hair stands up in unnatural places as if there are invisible magnets holding them up. But Damien hardly takes any interest of his friend's looks and simply stumps through the front door, letting the half-asleep boy slide the door shut.

"Would you like some tea with that gov'na?" Pip mumbles in his sleep, but somehow accurately facing me.

"No thanks Pip. Just wash your face and come back with a clear mind." My voice mutters back with irritation. The blond does exactly what he's told and ponders down the hall towards the bathroom.

He comes back a few minutes later; golden hair tamed, droopy eyes bright and wide, fully clothed in his century-old suit and French hat, and wearing his squeaky-clean shoes all polished up, not really matching the rotting creaky floorboards of his house.

"Good morning Damien! Nice day," He exaggerates, pointing his thumb at the still dark, frozen window.

"It would have been better if I didn't wake up to find Stan's phone filled with your paranoid messages." Damien mutters.

"And if you didn't come to wake me up at six in the morning, yes, quite." Pip hums, invisible sarcasm hidden behind his words. "So, what have you come for?" He asks merrily, skipping to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea.

Damien follows him, twitching my eye in irritation towards the blonde's carefree attitude.

"I came about the mountain of texts and phone calls you gave me." He answers, leaning over Pip as he reaches to grab a cup out of the cupboard, and then whispers into his ear, "About Kyle."

A cup slips out of Pip's fingers and is sent crushing to the ground to shutter into a million little pieces, until Damien catches it swiftly with ease. Pip, healthy pink face dipped in icy blue, clutters his neck to face the antichrist standing behind him, a smile of horror twitches his lips.

"Um-" He giggles uncomfotably. "Oops?"

A long and agonising groan blasts through my mouth as Damien falls back into the kitchen chair placed conveniently behind me, palm slapping my face in aggravation.

"Pip. Yesterday Kyle came here and found my body frozen in the basement, while you-" He flips my hand around lazily, somehow indicating the petrified Brit. "Were making yourselves a nice cup of earl-grey tea."

"It was Darjeeling-"

"Beside the point. Pip." Damien spits.

"I know…" Pip sinks, slumping his shoulders as he pours a cup of tea and waits for the milk to boil. "I'm sorry. I awfully am." He says sincerely, placing a cup of warm milk in front of Damien and sliding himself into the chair across me. He shrugs with a troubled smile."I guess I'm just clumsy and hopeless…"

"Pip I didn't say that." Damien suddenly glares, making the blond jolt in surprise. "You are not hopeless and I'm not mad with you."

"You're not?" Pip's eyes widen in confusion, but glittering with relief. Damien nods.

"I am frustrated and should I say, disappointed but- I guess it would be a lie if I said that it wasn't expected from you. And besides…" A smile prickles my lips. "The outcome wasn't so disastrous."

"It wasn't?" Pip nearly bursts out. Damien smiles at him and tilts further into the chair, lifting the two front legs as he stares into the stained ceiling. He keeps my expression blank as he dazes into the atmosphere reliving yesterday's events.

"I haven't felt so happy in a long time…" He mutters with a whisper, closing my eyes tiredly.

"What happened?" I hear a voice whisper through the dense atmosphere, but Damien doesn't' respond. "Damien?" Something clutters and I guess that Pip went onto his feet, hopping up close to me. "Damien, have you fallen asleep?"

"_Damien?"_ I ask the darkness, but nothing replies. I guess Pip's right. He did fall asleep.

x

A couple of hours past with me simply listening to Damien's calm and deep breathing. He doesn't stir, he doesn't mumble, he is almost frozen except for the quiet steady breaths. He proves wrong what I have learnt about sleep in psychology; well, what I remember of it anyway. But can you really apply that knowledge to the antichrist?

In the distance I begin to hear cluttering, and the small noises flutters my eyes open, waking Damien up.

"Good morning Damien! And the second time today! What a jolly good day it is to be able to say that twice in less than a few hours apart, hmm?" A bright voice exaggerates.

"Was I asleep for that long?" Damien mumbles, ignoring Pip's slight sarcasm.

"Oh, come off it Damien. A couple of hours aren't going to destroy the way the world turns you know." Pip says reassuringly, placing the re-heated cup of milk on the table. Damien shuffles my hair and looks down onto the table, seeing maps, books and notes covering the whole wooden surface. He raises my eyebrow, impressed with what he sees. "I guessed your true motive to come here so early was to discuss about breaking the seal." Pip states matter-of-factly as he drops himself in the other kitchen chair, sipping his knew cup of tea.

"Oh Pip. You know me too much." Damien mutters as he takes a stack of notes and flips through them.

"Well honey, I do try." Pip coos with a bat of his eyelashes that sends them both into calm cackles.

"_Gay…"_ I mutter quietly in the darkness.

"_Hey."_ Damien says bitterly. _"Unlike you, I'm not _in_ love with my best friend."_

"_I know! You're in love with-"_ My voice grips down the name and I calm down heavily. _"Never mind." _I almost wish he _were_ in love with his best friend. That would be one thing less to be worried about. Wait. Why the fuck am I worried?

"So. Do you have any idea on how to break the seal?" Pip interjects my thoughts, making Damien shift his eyes off the pile of notes and onto the blond. A confident smirk spreads across my lips.

"Pip, this is a powerful, yet one of the most simplest seals I've ever seen. Breaking it would be just as simple." My voice clicks out confident whispers. "I don't only have an idea. I know exactly how to do it."

"Really!" Pip cheers excitedly, but his smile instantly drops. "Really?"

Damien snickers at his doubtful expression. "Oh Pip. Do you not trust me?"

"Oh, I trust you with all my heart. I just didn't think the Devil's seal would be so easy to brake. How do you do it? But more importantly!" The blond cuts in loudly as if suddenly remembering something. "What were you so happy about?"

Damien blinks once. "My happiness is more important than breaking the seal to you?"

"You know your happiness is the most important to me." Pip snorts at his own words, failing his fake flirtation.

"Oh, I hate you so much in the mornings Pip…" Damien mutters in annoyance, but with a small smile twitching my lips warmly. "Kyle called my name." He says quietly.

"Kyle? After he found out, you mean? Well why wouldn't he?" He blinks in confusion until his eyes begin to widen slowly in realisation. "Hang on… Why would you be so happy about him calling your name? Unless-"

"Pip." Damien warns lowly.

"Do you actually fancy Kyle Broflovski?" Pip leans straight up to my face and whispers loudly, breathing into my face excitedly, yet with his eyes full of concern.

"Pip-" Damien sighs and closes my eyes in frustration.

"Damien listen," But Pip ignores Damien's words, simply striving for his point. "Damien you're confused. Stan's feelings are somehow, connected or influencing you, making you share the same feelings. They aren't really your feelings, you're just mixing your own feelings with Stan's-"

"Pip!" Damien finally calls, bursting my hands open like fireworks, reflecting my voice. Pip instantly shuts up, and Damien returns to his calm and quiet state. "It doesn't matter how I feel, all right? It sincerely doesn't."

"But-" Pip mutters quietly, tensing his shoulders guiltily.

"Look." My voice says gently. "I'm going to break the seal. Soon I will return to my own body and Stan will be free. Whatever 'connections' or 'influences' we have will be broken and I will become myself again. You see? That is why it doesn't matter."

The room falls into a frozen silence. I feel the tension fall out of Pip's shoulders as he eyes right through me and at Damien with sympathetic eyes. Damien doesn't look up to meet them.

"Should we talk about the seal now or are you still interested in discussing about my 'confused' feelings?" Damien says with a smirk, looking up to finally meet Pip's gaze, which relaxes in relief. But did he notice the lack of amusement in Damien's smirk?

"Yeah, sure. I mean. Yes please!" He ends in a more enthusiastic tone, making Damien chuckle a bit, breaking the ice in the air.

"So." Damien begins, getting straight into the main deal. "There are mainly two elements that make up this seal. First and most obviously," Damien traces the red pentacle with my finger, "-the iron railroad shaped into a pentacle. This would be simple to fix, we just need to create a disconnection somewhere. Simple- not necessarily easy. And then secondly, the goats buried in the cemeteries." My fingers taps each cemetery. "The sacrificed blood and bone of the 'clean' animal buried purifies the soil, completing the Devil's seal. It's a holy seal that purifies the land so that I can't set foot on it."

I stir in confusion and Pip's eyebrows twitches as well.

"Doesn't that mean that you won't be able to set foot on this land at all? What about the hour or so you were able to stay here for?"

Damien shuffles around some notes and hums.

"I think my father cast some sort of spell on the seal concerning time. I don't think it would be much of a concern. It should break along with the seal if we succeed."

Pip nods in understanding. "Well, that makes sense. And it sounds simple enough."

"_It does?"_ I ask, taken aback.

"But why does it only work for you?" Pip quickly throws in another question.

"It doesn't" Damien shrugs. "It works for all demons and devils. It's just that I'm the only one who would want to be in a piss-ass town like South Park for a long time."

"So about the goats-" Pip returns to the topic, barely nodding at Damien's answer. "Do you just dig them up, or is it more complicated than that?"

"We don't necessarily dig them up, but it is very simple." Damien says, digging my hand into my pocket and making something clatter. "All we need is this." The devil pulls my hand out and tilts my wrist to emphasise the object he pulled out. It is nothing but an empty glass tube.

"An empty flask?" Pip asks. I can relate to his utterly confused tone.

A confident smirk appears on my mouth as Damien eyes the confused blond.

"Come with me."

Pip does as he's told with curiosity, following Damien down the stairs towards the basement. I can basically feel the coldness through the monotone room and the way our voices seem to bounce off the frozen cement walls, covered with a sheet of notes with random symbols and foreign writing. As always, there is the bookshelf on one side of the room, and there's Damien's body lying on the other side, frozen in time.

Damien floats straight across the room and reaches his body, kneeling beside it. Pip follows, still confused, until his eyes widen in horror when Damien slides a knife out of my pocket. Goddamn it. What the hell does he keep in there?

"Damien. Do you-"

But before Pip can finish, Damien grabs the limp wrist of his own body and pulls up his black sleeve. The knife twirls in my hand at an aiming position and slams down, digging the blade deep into the wrist and gashing through the meat.

"_Damien! The FUCK!"_ I shriek in the darkness, watching him saw through his own flesh. Despite the fact that I don't feel much doesn't change the fact that the gross sight of his ripped meat wants to make me puke out my insides.

But behind me, I barely hear Pip's shudder of breath and then the sound of him trying to calm himself down from the-apparently- usual sight.

"I hate it when you do that." Pip mumbles uncomfortably, watching Damien plant the empty flask under the wound, twisting the wrist around so that the blood flows into the glass tube. "Why can't you make it more gentle? Just because you can heal and don't feel as much pain doesn't mean you have to make everything so grotesque!" He half shrieks, half moans as the blood fills four more flasks Damien had sneakily snuck into my pockets. Jesus Christ.

"Got it." Damien hums as he rocks back up onto my feet, observing his fresh-looking blood in the dim basement bulb. It looks like normal human blood. Maybe a bit more liquid-y, like vintage wine. "Behold! My blood." He acts with a smirk and a glamorous spin on my shoes. I can imagine the effect if he was in my own body, but I guess it doesn't really work out with my looks.

"So your blood is going to-" Pip rolls his hands for an answer from Damien, who just stares back amusingly. "Bloody hell Damien, what is it for!"

Damien drums my fingers on the glass fondly, clicking my nails to make the blood stir inside.

"After digging the goat's grave, I'll pour this on the remains of the animal. The 'clean' beast will be 'unclean' and its purified land will be blemished with the stain of my blood." The drumming of my fingers stop and Damien looks up, eyes wide and bright for the antichrist. "Simply speaking the holy seal will be polluted and lose its power."

"Broken." Pip simplifies Damien's words, making the devil shrug smugly. "Well. Sounds simple enough." The blond shrugs as well. "So. When are we going?"

"We?" Damien asks with a frown, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes we. You're not going to go alone are you? It sounds simple enough, but it will still take a while if you need to pass through five towns of Park County and do all that stuff. You don't want Stan missing any of his school do you?" Pip nods up and down, indicating my body. That's nice. He cares for me.

"Well, that and you have nothing better to do during the holidays because I'm your only friend?" Damien smirks.

"Now that's only half true!" Pip whines. "I'm sure I'm friends with Stan now too."

Damien quirks my eyebrows. _"Would you say that's true Stan?"_

I shrug. _"Sure."_

"He says you are friends." Damien smiles.

"See?" Pip cheers in delight. "I have another friend! The only problem is, is that you two are sharing the same body."

"It doesn't change the circumstance!" My voice cackles.

"Exactly!" Pip laughs as well. "So bugger off and let me help you."

I can tell that there was no point to their conversation but who cares. Their friendly laughter fills up the frozen room, creating some life in the dull place. Even with the bloody body lying lifelessly on the ground. Am I the only one who feels awkward with that?

We return back to the kitchen and fall into our seats, staring at the map spread in front of us.

"So, how would we split them?" Pip asks, nodding at the five pet cemeteries indicated on the map.

"I guess we will take three and you take two." Damien answers, tapping a pen on the table to the rhythm of his thoughts. Pip twitches his nose in confusion for a second, at 'we' but then realises the meaning quick enough. I can't say that I hate how Damien includes me when he describes himself.

"It's times like these when you are glad I got a car, right?" Pip snickers, eyeing with a teasing glint in his eye.

"Pip, I never stopped you from getting one." I hear my voice sigh.

"Yeah, right. You only told me that I'd probably blow up the thing just by turning the key the wrong way when I got one, sending myself straight back to Hell."

"I was merely stating a possibility, Pip" Damien smirks.

Ha. I remember that, when a rumour went around that Pip got a car. It's not a big deal if you think about it now, but it was back then. I remember Cartman saying _'What? He can't drive! He will probably kill more people than Stan's grandpa by driving on the wrong side of the road!' _Yeah, and then Kyle said, _'You idiot Cartman! Just because he's English doesn't mean he'll drive on the left side of the road!'_

I hear snickering in the distance, other than mine. _"Kyle said that?" _Damien asks.

"_Yeah. Cartman started ripping on Pip and Kyle started defending him. They didn't talk for a couple of days after that." _

I'm not going to repeat what they said to each other exactly. But at the time, Cartman's words made me grit my teeth, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling boiling in my stomach. …Okay, so Cartman said something about Kyle wanting Pip's dick up his ass and it made my insides twist uncomfortably. I was still in my denial stage with my feelings towards Kyle back then.

"Does Stan have a car?" I hear Pip's voice in the distance and I bring myself out of thoughts of the fifteen year-old oblivious redhead from two years ago and focus on their conversation.

"Yes he has a car." Damien answers and Pip nods. "But I would like to swop with yours"

"What?"

"_What?"_ We both burst at the same time.

"Is his that bad?" Pip shrinks into his chair and asks doubtfully.

"No." My voice scoffs. "It's not sixty years-old." My jaw mentally drops at his words.

"_What!"_ I shriek. _"You're lending my Jeep for an ancient piece of junk?"_

"_He prefers the word 'vintage', Stan_" The antichrist shrugs, and then returns to Pip's conversation.

"I think your sedan delivery would be more convenient to carry my body."

"Your body?"

Damien nods. "I am going to bring my body with us so that I can return to it as soon as the seal is broken."

"Oh. –wow." Pip raises his eyebrows. "You really want to give Stan his body back don't you?"

Damien scoffs. "Please, Pip. I'm not doing it for _him_."

"_Oh thanks…"_ I mutter. He smirks.

"I'm doing it for myself." My voice murmurs quietly, more to himself.

I feel Pip's curious eyes goggle into me and I feel a little interested too, but Damien doesn't seem to be about to evaluate his answer. After a few seconds of silence the blond teen leans back in resignation, sighing lightly.

"But can you bring your body?" Pip returns back to the main conversation. "I mean, is the spell you put on it going to hold?"

"As long as I don't dump my body in the water or do anything to rub the blood off my chest, it will be fine." He answers. I vaguely remember the magical symbol painted onto Damien's chest with his blood. That must be it.

Somehow, under some kind of silent order, all our eyes return back to the bright red pentacle on the map.

"So. Who gets which cemetery?" Pip asks, shifting in his seat slightly nervously.

"It doesn't really matter. How about if we take Elm, Tarryall and Lower Crow Hill Cemetery, while you take Hathaway and Crosier Cemetery?"

"I don't know." The blond tilts his head and looks deeply into the map. "I guess so. I feel a little weird about digging up the remains still."

"You don't have to go you know." Damien reassures, but Pip shakes his head frantically.

"No, I'll take it! I will be fine!"

A smile falls on my lips. "Good."

And with that, my shoes hit the ground and Damien swings up onto my feet gracefully.

"So, when are we going to leave?" Pip asks as he follows Damien out his front door. "Tomorrow?" He asks, half doubtfully, half expectantly.

"If that's good with you. We can start Wednesday if that's better-"

"No. Tomorrows fine!" Pip slaps the air. "I mean. There's nothing to really prepare for, is there?" Towards the end of his words his voice drops and the brightness in his eyes dims cautiously. "Is there?"

"Pip, no. You will only need a shovel and some food and clothes maybe, but that's it. Oh, and two of these." Damien rattles two blood-filled flasks in the air. "As you see? And you won't need to prepare for any demons or anything. I told you, most of Park County is holy ground now- no demons or devils can set foot here."

"Except for you." Pip corrects.

"Except for me." Damien grins. "I'll see you tomorrow." He calls and trots down the steps, digging my feet into the snow. I hear Pip salute us from behind as Damien walks away. Somehow faintly, I feel like my heart is heavy, struggling to stay in the middle of my chest.

x

We are all set for tomorrow! We need to get our sleep now! Which is what Damien thinks. There's a shovel leaning against my bedroom wall, a small pile of clothes and a stack of canned food. It will all fit easily into one backpack.

"_Will you at least bring my guitar?"_ I ask him as he begins to place the pyramid of cans into a bag.

"_Why would you want me to bring your guitar?"_ He asks back, eyeing the beautiful instrument standing in the corner of my bedroom.

"_I don't know. I just don't want to be too far from it. Okay?"_

He shrugs, but walks towards it, kneeling down to slide the guitar into its designated case. I watch him as my fingers slide across the perfectly polished wood and see the pleasurable strings glisten under the light. My insides begin to shake and I feel myself boiling in frustration. If only I had _some_ freedom I would be able to slide my fingers across its body and play. It's agonising not being able to touch and play my own instrument, almost as agonising as not being able to touch Kyle, almost.

In a way, the guitar _is_ Kyle, part of him anyway. The beautiful instrument is what Kyle had secretly saved up for for months and gave me for my sixteenth birthday. I can honestly say that it probably outshined the Jeep my parents got me. I had been drooling and rubbing my skin against the window of the music shop, eyeing the guitar for months, craving just to have a quick play. I had grown out of my old guitar. It felt like a fucking ukulele when I held it.

When Kyle gave the guitar to me, my throat was already rasped from boasting so much about my new car. He gave it to me after we got alone, looking sheepish and shy. I would've melted and said that he was cute, if I wasn't still in denial.

"_Jesus Kyle what did you get me? It's friggin' huge dude!" I said unwrapping the layers and layers of wrapping he had managed to put on. _

"_I don't think you'll find it that amazing actually." He said, sucking his teeth nervously. That was after a week long 'You'll never guess what I got you Stan! It's the best present ever!' ranting. But that quickly died down when I flipped about getting a car. "I mean, it's not a car or anything…" He added quietly. But I heard him, feeling a slight twist of guilt in my stomach, and smiled. _

"_Dude, anything from you makes it worth more than anything." I said. I quickly noticed how gay that sounded and panicked, until Kyle chuckled warmly, which made everything seem okay. _

_It was then, being lost in Kyle's chuckle when I tore the last layer of unskilful wrapping off. I felt Kyle's eyes eye me expectantly, yet nervously, shuffling his shoulders as he waited for a reaction. But I couldn't. I just couldn't jump on him and hug the life out of him, thanking my throat out as I always did. I couldn't even look away from it to meet his eyes. I simply stared at the instrument of my dreams as my vision began to blur, and tears came streaming down my cheeks unconsciously. _

"_Jesus Stan! Are you okay? Dude, you're crying!" I heard his concerned voice and slowly tilted my head to meet his worried gaze. He continued to stare into my eyes as a couple last drops fell down my cheeks._

_My vision was still blurred from my dampened eyes as I looked deep into his emeralds. They seemed to shine in all the colours possible, like light entering a gemstone, to make it glisten magically. _

"_It's beautiful..." I murmured, not breaking eye contact. I was trapped in between the guitar in my hands and Kyle's gaze locked into me. "I love you." _

_The concern didn't completely leave his eyes, but warmness fell through them, and he smiled. _

_That was the first time I told him that I loved him, and I don't think he even got the true meaning behind the words. _

"_I love you too Stan."_

_But he answered me, nonetheless._

A fierce ring shoots through my relaxed mind and I'm brought back to the frustrating present where the antichrist is riding my body, shoving canned soup into my backpack.

"Hello?" Damien answers my cell-phone, tugging it in between my neck and my collarbone.

"Hello- umm Damien?" The familiar English accent calls doubtfully from the other side.

A sigh leaves my mouth. "What it is Pip?"

A nervous chuckle returns and I hear him scratch the back of his head through the phone.

"Would it be wrong if I told Kyle about our little- um, journey? To brake your seal? Or do you think it would be alright?" He asks, rather quickly, trying to let his tongue take control of itself.

My breathing tenses and my eyebrows begin to furrow. "I think that would be highly inappropriate Pip."

"Oh. Ah, okay then." Comes a half-hearted answer.

Damien let's out and aggravated sigh and bursts out, "Oh for the love of- Pip. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. Ha, ha. Nothing at all!" The Brit says, acting over the top it almost making it sound monotone.

Before Damien can interrogate him any further, the boy on the line swiftly hangs up, leaving us in a repetitive beeping.

"_He's told him hasn't he?"_ I ask confusingly.

Almost in response, a loud knocking comes from my window and Damien swings back, seeing a small pale fist hit repetitively against the glass.

"_He did."_ Damien answers as he crosses the room to slide the window up. Instantly, the thin figure tumbles in, flopping onto my bed and making his red curls spread across my sheets.

"Ow…" He mutters, rubbing his neck, but quickly recovers and shoots his head up, drilling his passionate emerald gaze into me. "Damien!" He yells, struggling to get himself untangled from my bed sheets. My mind flinches when it is Damien's name that comes out of Kyle's mouth as he looks at me, and not mine.

"What is it Kyle?" Damien asks innocently, helping the boy to stand on his two feet. Kyle glares.

"Pip told me everything!" He bellows, poking my chest with his finger. "What is all this about some kind of seal and you going to go break it?"

"Kyle, listen. I'll tell you, just, come back tomorrow" Damien soothes, trying to calm the raging daywalker down.

"Right after you leave?" Kyle crosses his arms accusingly. A sigh leaves my mouth, giving in to Kyle.

"Kyle, there's not much to it. And I think Pip already told you everything. We are going to break the seal, I will return to my body and Stan will be free. He will come back in just a few days."

"I know! But that's not the point!" He clasps his hands on my chest and digs his fingers into my shirt. "Why didn't you tell me this?" He asks desperately.

Damien blinks a couple of times. "I didn't think it'd matter to you."

"Of course it matters!" Kyle growls, ripping his hands away to rest his hands on his hips. "How can I come with you if you don't fucking tell me?"

My heart jumps, and Damien blinks a few more before my eyes begin to narrow.

"Kyle, I'm going alone." He says firmly.

"The hell you are! I'm coming with you!" He yells, forgetting that they're other people sleeping in the house. "Look," he drops his voice, "To be honest with you, no matter what you said to me yesterday, I don't know you. And frankly, I don't want you going too far for too long alone in Stan's body." My body tenses at Kyle's words, but then Kyle's firm eyes melt into a wide grin, making the whole atmosphere magically brighten up. "And besides. It sounds fucking fun!"

Damien smirks, shrugging at the redhead's shuffling temper. "Well, I guess you can come." He says, reaching out to twirl one of my fingers around Kyle's curls. "And it will be nice to spend my last days here with you." He murmurs softly, letting my finger slide out of his hair.

Kyle bats his eyelashes with a frown and tugs on the strand of his hair that was around my finger in confusion.

"We are leaving at nine tomorrow morning. Meeting up at Pip's" Damien says, interfering Kyle's tugging of his own hair.

"Nine! I still have to get ready!" He moans, making Damien smirk.

"You don't have to come you know?"

"I'll be there!"

His persistence draws a chuckle out of the antichrist and Kyle quickly slides back to the window.

"Nine o'clock, Pip's. Got it. Don't be late!" He narrows his eyes accusingly before sliding out of my room, leaving us in a cold, yet calming silence. But instantly, from the window comes more shuffling and Kyle tumbles back into the room with a flushed face. "Forgot something!" He yelps as he gets tangled, yet again in my sheets, but manages to hop up to me.

He looks deeply into my eyes, searching, digging deeper until I feel as though his glimmering emeralds are reaching for me. And he does reach, somehow, I will like to believe it.

A little smile pulls his lips up and he reaches up to kiss me on the cheek.

"Give that to Stan for me, will you Damien?" He chuckles nervously as he slides back out my room. This time he doesn't come back, leaving both our minds frozen as we watch my curtains dance around in the cold air mischievously.

It was strange. I didn't feel his kiss on my cheek, but I felt warmness flow directly into me and fill me up.

Yet on the other hand, a deep sigh leaves my lips as Damien reaches out to close the window shut, making the dancing curtains come to a disappointing halt.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Oh, oh my- I personally found that chapter mmm-blergh. I hate my writing sometimes. But I finally wrote about the guitar! And writing Damien and Pip is so much fun so it was nice while writing it. <strong>

**Anyways. Thanks for reading! **

**Oh yes! And that's the end of part two! Next chapter we will begin part three: the breaking of the seal. **

**The story is approaching the end people! Are you excited? I am! **


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N- Sorry for the late update. I had trouble writing this since school started and my time management skills just went to the moon, and I didn't know how to. So I finished all my homework to keep all of Anzac day for writing. **

**Poor lost souls of the war, protecting their country. But they were muttering a lot about the Japanese so I felt a little conflicted. **

**Anyway, thank you so much:**

**raisuke143(Dyle must increase!)**

**XWhiteRabbitX(Wow, I'm so happy you like my writing. And the guitar part! I had promised a guitar in this story months before writing it so yay, yessss!)**

**Your Fictional Affair(It's not much the chapter but my writing I find annoying sometimes. I'm really glad you can feel the characters feelings. I turn into the characters when I write them so their feelings kill me sometimes. So I'm glad you are (maybe?) getting that:))**

**MusicalRose1210(Update! I hope it's not too late)**

**And styleforever20(He he, thanks. But I don't think I could be better than you. I mean, everyone has their own writing style, like art. That and it's just grammar and spelling and crap like that…)**

**For your wonderful reviews! Gosh I'm blabbering on today! But probably no one's reading so it's all alright. **

**Here we go!**

**I hope you enjoy part three~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Fourteen: On a Highway to Hell<span>_

"You're late."

We arrive at Pip's and slip out of the Jeep still half asleep, to be greeted by a pout.

"Good morning to you too, Kyle." Damien smirks, his drowsy, hazy, not talking mode switching off to finally wake up for the day. "And no, I am not late. I am exactly on time."

The redhead narrows his eyes for a second and tenses like an angry cat, before giving up and releasing himself into the frozen morning air.

"Exactly nine o'clock." Kyle states, rolling his eyes half-heartedly. "Stan would never have been so precise." He sighs.

"Well, what can I say? I am not Stan."

"_But _I_ am!"_ I bite defensively. Damien simply shrugs and Kyle chuckles lightly, only to be interrupted by a distant wailing coming from deep inside Pip's rotting house.

"That's one guy who's definitely _not_ on time." Kyle huffs. "He's been going on like that for at least ten minutes."

Damien raises his brows in amusement before creaking the front door open.

"Stell-lahhhhh!" An exaggerated moaning welcomes us into the fusty house. The second the British accent enters my ears Damien twitches my eyebrow in frustration before entering the bedroom.

We enter the room and see a gangly teen sobbing pathetically beside his bed, making Damien sigh in aggravation.

"You know, this is exactly why I said you didn't have to come." Damien states, looking over the shoulders of the shaking blond, hugging something desperately in his arms.

"Oh dearest Estella! I will miss you!" He sobs, ignoring the antichrist's presence.

"Pip." Damien sighs again calmly. "You have the locket, shouldn't that be enough?" I finally see that what Pip hugs in his arms is a glamorous frame. The Brit still doesn't answer. "Look Pip. She will be safer here." The antichrist slides the frame out of Pip's hand and places it gently on the bedside table. The beautiful young girl pouts in the frame. Her rich her released into brilliant golden waves, her pale cheeks tinted a rosy pink, her deep green eyes shine spectacularly, reminding me of a certain someone waiting outside.

"Now that you had your little streetcar moment, do you mind if we leave?" My voice suggests, a little sarcastically in mild annoyance.

"Oh, all right." Pip says, instantly relaxing as Damien pushes him out the door. I don't ask anything about the girl in the frame. I'm not risking listening to a whole novel about whom she is if I asked.

After Pip reluctantly ponders out the house Damien goes to the basement to get what he came for: his own body, lying frozen on the cement floor. He hoists his lifeless body up onto my shoulder, careful not to create any friction that might rub the blood off his chest, and walks easily out the basement.

"Wow, that's amazing dude…" Kyle's breathless voice murmurs behind the front door. Damien kicks the rotten wood open and stomps outside towards the two boys huddled around a vintage vehicle.

"It's nothing really…" Pip chuckles back, scratching the back of neck through his long strands embarrassingly, yet unable to suppress his leaking grin.

My feet digging through the snow catches their attention and Kyle flings his hands off the shining body of a beautiful '40s to '50s Chevrolet Sedan Delivery and beams at us.

"Damien! Take a look at this car dude! Don't you think it's sweet? Pip fixed the whole thing up from practically scratch!" He grins proudly as if it was him who had done it. And I guess it is- proud worthy, I mean. The ancient car, body perfectly polished, the interior tamed, doesn't seem a day old. It would look better in a museum or something than on the edge of a piss-ass town. If I had the freedom to move my own body, I would probably wag my own invisible tail and lick all over it excitedly at its beauty. Hey, being gothic was a phase to me doesn't mean that I still can't appreciate old things. But thank god Damien's controlling my body, walking to the back of the car nonchalantly.

"Yes, I know." Damien answers as he flings the trunk open, a small smile lifting my lips. "Pip is very talented in fixing cars I must say, unlike the driving of them…" He mumbles the last words out as he lays his body into the trunk, fitting easily with his knees bent to the side. God, now that I look at this car with a frozen body lying in the back it looks like nothing but a friggin' hearse.

"You done in there?" A soft voice echoes in my ears, way too close, shooting a quick shiver through Damien and making him jolt.

"Kyle." He says breathlessly, rubbing my ears that are probably burning from Kyle's breath. The redhead looks at me curiously, then falls into a short laughter before quietening down with a slight blush.

"Do you, er, mind stopping at my house on the way? I couldn't really- um, bring my bag here." He manages out with embarrassment.

Damien shrugs. "That would be possible. Why, did you forget it?" He chuckles softly. Kyle simply nods, deeply, trying to shrug at the same time.

"Yeah- yeah you could say that." He hiccups. As if Kyle would openly admit that he had forgotten something.

A loud slam comes from behind me and Pip reappears, hands rubbing together, his slightly long hair tied up at the back, keeping the strands out of his way. "Well I'm all set up in Stan's car. Are you two ready?" He asks brightly.

"Wait, I need to get Stan's possessions." My voice mutters as Damien makes his way to my Jeep and picks up my backpack and guitar.

"Is that all?" Kyle's mouth slumps open. "A small bag and Stan's guitar- dude, can you even play?" He brings his hands to his hips.

"I can't. But Stan insisted me to bring it." The antichrist answers. Kyle's eyes widen for a second, then slowly looks down, a small smile appearing on his lips. His subtle expression fills me with warmth, but it gives my heart a sudden cringe. Damien quickly averts my eyes away from Kyle and slides my baggage into the trunk of the delivery, careful not to hit his body with them.

"Now we're ready." Damien murmurs, slamming the trunk shut.

Pip hops up and spreads the Park County map over the roof of the car, the red pentacle still glimmering in the centre.

"What the hell is that?" Kyle asks, scrunching his nose up in confusion. "The star. The hell?"

"Oh, those indicate where we have to go." Pip explains, as if he's an expert. "You see the edges?"

The redhead tilts his head for a better view. "Fairplay, Jefferson, Bailey, Tarryall and Hartsel, yeah what's with them?"

The Brit explains confidently, although what he says is mostly borrowed from Damien. But the antichrist doesn't complain, he merely lifts my eyebrow in amusement, watching Kyle's expression drop in confusion, disbelief, and slight frustration.

"Dude, what the hell?" He comments on after the explanation. "I mean, goats and the railway, and your blood? I mean, Dude."

I agree with you Kyle, with all my heart, unlike the lanky blond who looks confused by your confusion.

"Anyway," Kyle shakes his head, "so basically all I need to know is, dig the grave, pour the blood and disconnect the railway, right?"

"Yes, that is pretty much it." Damien shrugs, then turns to face Pip. "So, do you know where you are going first?"

The blond rolls his shoulders, thinking. "I'll probably go to Jefferson first and then Fairplay. I'll probably end before you, yeah?"

Damien nods. "We'll start at Hartsel and move up," he traces the map with my finger, "finishing at Bailey. You can just come back to South Park after you're finished. Or you could go to Bailey and meet with us, although it would be a long turn-around. You can do as you wish."

With a quick nod of understanding, Pip releases his ponytail and his blond hair falls back into his face.

"Right. We should get going then." He smiles. "I guess I'll see you in a few days. Good bye Kyle!" His fingers dance in the air as a salute towards the redhead, who smiles and nods back.

We hear my Jeep burst to life and drive away. My heart slightly sinks in worry towards its safety in the Brit's hands.

"Is he going to be okay?" Kyle mutters, looking at the trail of smoke quickly beginning to disappear.

"He will be fine. No matter how stupid and clumsy he may seem, he knows what he is doing." With a reassuring smile towards Kyle, Damien slides into the driver's seat and Kyle follows suit, placing himself next to me.

x

I feel Damien twitch my eyes as Kyle struggles out of his house. He has been in there for a whole thirty minutes and as he drags himself out, I understand why.

"Kyle, we are not going for a survival in the jungle for a month. Do you really think we need all that?"

"Of course we do!" He pants as Damien lifts the monstrous hiking bag off his back with ease. "A tent, change of clothes, food, camping stove, change of gas, pots and pans, a flashlight, a sleeping bag- do _you_ have a sleeping bag?" Damien shakes his head blankly. "I didn't think so. That's fine, my one is a double so we can share it."

My body flinches at the thought and I wish I could glare a warning into Damien, although that might be a bit hypocritical.

We jump back into the car, all ready to go with a guitar, a backpack, a large motherfuckin' hiking bag and a lifeless body lying in the trunk. This is going to be one hell of a journey.

"Oh, I almost forgot the best thing!" Kyle mutters, digging through his smaller bag (yes he has another one). "I noticed that this car only has a cassette player so…Tada!" He bursts to himself, taking out a shoebox. He opens it to present a series of cassette tapes. "I grabbed it quickly on the way out. Dude this is going to be awesome!"

He picks one out, examines it with a smile on his face and slides it into the cassette player, nodding excitedly as he waits for the music to turn on. Damien steals a glance of his bright smile as he takes out of the driveway; it makes a smile hint on my own lips.

A second later, the whole car bursts with an explosion of music and Kyle cheers for sheer pleasure of the excitement. He plays his skilful air guitar and almost yells the lyrics with his high-pitched voice. We- Damien and I, have no doubt that the music is leaking out the car and disturbing the outsiders, but it doesn't matter. Damien laughs and shakes his head at the redhead's act and Kyle beams at his reaction and continues. I would laugh myself if I could.

It's amazing us four, me, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman, I mean. We don't have much in common- actually we all pretty much represent completely different groups, yet we stay together. But maybe that's because there are some similarities that connects us. Music is one of them. And god, do we enjoy the time we shout out songs stupidly together. And how fun would it be right now, if I could join him and shout as well. But I hear his smile through his bright voice, and it makes me not want to complain.

"_I'M ON A HIGHWAY TA HELL!"_ He sings, and slaps his knees as if he's the drummer.

After repeating that line a few times Damien gets a hang of it, and can't seem to hold himself in. He joins Kyle, unable to surpass the magic of conformism, and the lively energy leaking out from the redhead. He has that ability- to draw you in.

But as they sing, for a brief moment, my mind sobers up, just as we come to the edge of the town. We cross the train tracks and enter Kenny's side of town. And as we pass the blonde's house, our car still buzzing with music, I wonder why he hasn't sent a text back.

I made Damien send a text saying that Kyle, Damien and I would be out of town for a few days. He didn't really go into detail about our plan or the Devil's seal or anything, but it was enough information to make me satisfied, but it definitely was _not_ enough to satisfy Kenny. I had betted that he'd complain or even throw a fit saying that he wouldn't let Damien go on a trip alone with Kyle (since I'm pretty much non-existent). But he still hasn't sent a text back. Maybe he's sick of getting involved. It's pretty fucked up shit we're going through.

Cartman had sent a text back though. Saying 'Eh, whatever.'

We soon exit the town, moving onto the never-ending road that leads into the horizon. The music is still going, and the two still shout: _"ON A HIGHWAY TA-"_

x

It takes longer than we thought, driving this old hearse. Damien doesn't push the speed and neither Kyle nor I have the guts to push this sixty year-old thing either. It might blow.

There aren't many stands on the way, just the occasional dying gas station, barely keeping itself up. We have to stop at every single one of them to keep us on our feet. Old cars eat fuel up like a starving elephant, I tell you.

We have gone through a few tapes and we have somehow end up listening to Cho-pin. I don't know how to pronounce his name.

"_It's pronounced sho-pan"_ Damien smirks, his stance now much more relaxed on the wheel.

"_Gee, thanks."_

Anyway, it's much more relaxing than the screaming of AC/DC. We even stop for an hour or so to let our eyes droop.

"How much left?" Kyle mumbles, half waking from his light slumber.

"A couple of hours, perhaps." Damien answers, glancing at the boy sinking deep into his seat, legs tucked up to his chest tightly.

"Do you think we can make it by sunset?"

"Maybe."

And we do, just as the winter sun begins to set behind the tips of the high mountains. The town of Hartsel dyes in electric pink.

It's a really small town, Hartsel. So small in fact, that it makes South Park look like a goddamn city. I mean, we have a theatre, a mall, a hospital and crap. This place has like, I don't know, nothing really. Yet it's still one of the largest towns in this County.

"So, what's our plan?" Kyle asks, his mind waking up. "Are we going to do the blood thing now or are we going to do it tomorrow?"

Damien drives slowly through the gravel roads with a speed that can be caught up by foot. "Although the cemetery is just on the edge of town, now is still too bright. We should do it around midnight or later when it is darker."

"Midnight? Digging up graves at midnight?" Kyle moans.

"Yes. We should find a camping space just inside the woods, next to the cemetery."

"Camping next to a cemetery? Dude! Are you like, Goth or something?" His pale skin turns to a slightly unhealthy bluish shade. Damien chuckles.

"Don't worry Kyle. Dead people don't have many abilities."

Kyle pouts, a blush tinting his bluish skin. "I'm not scared." He grits.

"Then there is no problem."

The car jerks to a sudden stop and I notice that we've arrived at the entrance of the forest, a small cemetery right in front of us.

"Duuude…" Kyle shudders as he climbs out of the car, looking at the proximity with the cemetery. "Might as well just dig a grave up and share a coffin with a dead guy for the night."

He doesn't complain for very long though. He even begins to hum as he and Damien begin to build the tent up. It's pretty impressive, rainproof, keeping the warm in and all that. It's fairly small, but the Broflovski's know how to buy the right (as in expensive) stuff.

"Look Damien!" Kyle flaps his hand around, indicating to look inside the tent excitingly as Damien gets out some stuff out of the trunk.

Damien raises my eyebrows but peeps in with confusion.

"It's all up and ready." Kyle boasts, watching my expression. The double sleeping bag is spread readily in the centre, a couple of pillows lie across the head. Since when did he have pillows? "And see? I tied the light to the ceiling. Neat, huh?"

The antichrist just shakes my head with a smirk. "Impressive." He says smiling, and pulls out of the thing. Kyle smiles proudly.

Argh. I can't seem to get the thing out of my head. The double sleeping bag spread out like that cosily almost looks like nothing more than a no-tell motel. My whole mind shivers and boils at the thought that comes next. I will knit my lips together to keep myself from saying that aloud.

The canned soup that Damien and I had packed, I have found out, doesn't really work without a pot and a stove, which means that we would have been totally screwed if it weren't for Kyle's awesome packing.

We sit there around the small fire that they had made, the darkness long since crept upon us, hoping that no one notices the smoke or light. We aren't really camping on legitimate land and we have, sort of, created a fire in the woods, so we don't want to get caught, naturally.

Kyle sits there with his cup of soup, wrapped in many layers of clothing, some even borrowed from Damien, who sits with much less wrapped around me.

"Should we take a short nap before doing the work?" Kyle asks, breathing in the warm air of the soup. His breath turn white, and releases into the air, mixing with the ugly grey smoke of the fire. There is a tinge of glowing red in his orbs, making his green eyes blaze. His milky cheeks are pink from the frozen air and the warming steam from the soup. It's breathtaking.

"We should. Considering how late you came last night I doubt you had gotten much sleep."

The redhead nods, his eyes glazing over relaxingly as he places the warm cup of soup by his skin.

x

"You promise to wake me up?" Kyle reassures as we climb into the tent.

"Of course." Damien answers, 'of course' meaning 'no' of course.

The redhead slides into the sleeping bag first, quickly stripping himself out of the mountain of jackets and jumpers until he is only in his shirt and boxers before sighing deeply with content. Damien, although tensely, continues in with my jeans and shirt.

We lie there quietly, a small gap in the double sleeping bag between us. Soon, the beautiful warmness that Kyle was feeling seems to leak out of him and silently, he curls into a ball and his breath begins to shake.

"Are you alright Kyle?" Damien asks quietly.

"Just a little…" Kyle answers with a shaky voice, not finishing his sentence. But his voice explains everything.

At that answer my hands, although hesitantly, begin to move and break through the gap between us. Damien slides my hand carefully behind Kyle's back, and with great mental difficulty, pulls him close into my chest. My whole body tenses nervously, waiting for protest, but it doesn't come. Instead, the redhead lets out a shaky laugh.

"Thanks." He croaks and digs himself deeper into my body, searching for more warmth. For a minute or so he twists and turns, as if wondering what is the most comfortable spot in me.

"Dude, your belt's digging into me." He groans, shifting again. "Take it off." He mumbles.

Reluctantly, Damien does. Sliding my belt out of its place and swings it out of the sleeping bag.

"And your jeans." Kyle mutters under his breath.

"What?"

"Your jeans, dude. The fabric's a son of a bitch. It's scraping against my skin and it's _really_ uncomfortable." He groans more and scrunches his face up in discomfort. He slides his hands down and rubs his hips where the jeans are scraping against him, rubbing into my thigh in the process.

"_You are _not_ getting these jeans off." _I warn Damien with a growl.

"_I won't"_ He rolls his eyes and tries to wiggle out of Kyle rubbing.

A second later, my whole body tenses, shudders to a stop as something fiddles around my pants.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Damien asks at the redhead who is trying to undo my jeans.

"Dude, I'm taking off those pants. If you're not, I will." He growls when my hands shoot to catch Kyle's hands to stop.

"Fine, I will take them off, just please stop that." My face begins to boil, so much to the point that I begin to feel it. Kyle huffs and releases my zipper for Damien to do the job. I don't stop him. It's better than letting Kyle do it.

"Better?" Damien sighs deeply after my legs are released from the fabric. Kyle nods.

"Much." He says firmly, digging his way back into my warmth. "And it's much warmer this way too." Damien releases another sigh of breath before wrapping my arms back around Kyle.

He almost instantly falls to sleep, Kyle, his even breaths tell me so. But Damien doesn't seem to be able to, and I don't even try to in order to keep an eye on the antichrist. Kyle, cosy against my chest, mumbles gibberish softly every once in a while, but they slowly begin to turn into English.

"Stan," I hear my name and jolt. "Stan, you selfish bastard." He mumbles, scrunching up his nose in distaste and I turn to stone. Ouch. What the fuck?

"Stan-" He mumbles again, releasing the tension in his nose and furrowing his eyebrows instead. "Stan…" His voice is calmer, desperate. Damien's hold around him stiffens as Kyle continues to talk, his voice becoming quieter and quieter. "Stan, I'm sorry. I'm sorry Stan, I'm so sorry…"

His breath vibrates and his furrowed eyebrows begin to shake along with his lips. He's lost in there, desperate to reach out.

Looking at the boy struggling in his sleep, Damien chews on my lip and my forehead begin to tense. After a long second, my arms leave dreamer and reach up to untangle the light from the tent ceiling. Damien slides carefully out of the sleeping bag and digs my feet through my jeans. Not looking back at the moaning redhead as he leaves the tent. Only squinting at each of Kyle's desperate and painful words.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… Stan, I'm sorry."

"_What are you sorry for, Kyle?"_ I want to turn to him, to reach out to him, to say to him. _"Why would you be sorry for anything?"_

My clueless heart throbs painfully, hopelessly, and fearfully with each of his fragile cries. I want to scream.

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><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading! Yeah, not much happened, but unexpectedly, I'm pretty satisfied with it. Is this what you call a filler? Anyway, I have planned my climax and there will be much more to come! And there were some hints in the chapter by the way ;) Now onto my mumbling!<strong>

**I personally think that Damien may be one of the most alluring characters. He is cool yet passionate, has glowing red eyes, beautifully mysterious, polite and graceful and he is the son of the Devil! (Hey, that kinda rhymed!) And now he isn't scared to show himself so that personality is in Stan! Just imagine the mysterious classy aura that is now luring from the tall, well-built yet kind and soft looking quarterback! Mm-mmm. **

**But I still love Kyle most XD**

**Anyways. Until next time! Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N- Fast update! Kinda. Thank you:**

**raisuke143 (Kyle and his oblivious hot actions XD)**

**styleforever20 (I'll try and keep up!)**

**Chocolateoholic13 (You don't have to apologise! I don't blame anyone for not reviewing I just get really happy when they do!)**

**and Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Stupid kindle! Oh, and what is wrong with me? My sadistic attitude towards SP characters that's what XD)**

**for reviewing!**

**Disclaimer:**** Not my lyrics. They are from 'The Devil's Tears' by Angus and Julia Stone, and 'Carry on My Wayward Son' by Kansas. **

**Hope you enjoy~**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Fifteen: Don'tchu Cry No More <span>_

_Around the first couple of months of his days at the hospital, while Kyle was still complaining his ass off that he had no shit to do, I decided to play some music for him. I managed to sneak through the nurses with my large guitar case in hand; I don't know what those bitches would have done if they had caught me. _

"_Dude, you brought your guitar!" He said cheerfully with a bright smile._

"_Yeah, I have this new song I got." _

_He looked excited about it. _

_I knew that I had to pluck the strings softly, careful not to disturb any of the other patients, but it was a quiet song to begin with, so it wasn't that much of a dilemma. _

_To be honest, I hate my voice so I hate singing, but Kyle always said that he liked my singing, so I sang. He listened to me and the soft ringing of the strings intently, not making a sound until I finished, not clapping his hands bobbing his head, nothing. He just listened._

_I sang it, with so many emotions and messages put into the words, and I think Kyle had understood all of them. He just didn't acknowledge them._

_After the song came to an end, I looked up to find him staring out the window silently, and I figured out instantly that it was to hide his face. I never told him that I could see his reflection in the glass._

_It was that day that he began asking me to say 'Hi' to Wendy, the day I began to say 'No'. It was the day we began to break each other's hearts. _

_Do I regret it?_

x

"Morning Kyle." Damien says calmly, sipping on his cup of morning coffee. The redhead stops dead in his tracks at my voice, then slowly turns his head to reveal narrowed eyes.

"I'm not talking to you." He says, and continues to stomp until he reaches a large rock next to me, dropping himself onto it. He crosses his arms, crosses his legs, and flings his nose up into the air in the opposite direction.

"Well, you are." Damien states matter-of-factly. "But would you mind me asking why you would try to?"

Kyle drops his nose and after a mass debate with his inner-self, flings himself around to face me.

"Dude, why didn't you wake me up last night?"

Damien blinks. "Pardon?"

A small growl leaves Kyle's lips, the early morning doing him no good. "I told you to wake me up before doing the grave shit, you said yes, I fell asleep trusting you only to find myself being woken up by morning birds just a minute ago."

The cool, yet bright morning sunrays torch the Cemetery next to us perfectly, as it was designed to be lighten up in such a way.

"I have done the job, it wasn't that much of hard work." The antichrist says easily, sipping on his coffee again. But his answer makes Kyle frown.

"But wouldn't it be uncomfortable and creepy to dig a grave up in the middle of the night?" He says quietly.

"Well," Damien shrugs, "I'm not exactly alone."

The redhead instantly understands the words, and his small frown rests into a soft smile.

"And besides," my voice continues, "I wouldn't have been able to wake you up from such a deep sleep. You looked like you would kill anyone who had the courage to wake you."

"Ah, bull." Kyle rolls his eyes and leans over to grab the boiling pot of water over the fire.

We sit there in silence for a few minutes, drinking coffee and nibbling on bread, no butter no nothing, just bread. My inside is cringing, throbbing, and the silence to me is heavy as fuck. All I can think of now, is Kyle calling and apologising desperately in his sleep last night. But I can't ask him, Damien won't ask him, and I'm not about to make him do it either.

"So, what's our plan for today?" The silence is finally broken after Kyle finishes his piece of bread. Damien, setting his empty cup aside, grabs a nearby map.

"We are moving up to Tarryall. Digging up graves shouldn't get any more awkward there than it was here since the place is practically a ghost town."

Kyle nods. "You aren't going to leave me sleeping while you do all the work this time, are you?"

A small smile flows to my lips. "I won't."

x

We leave not too late, worried that someone might randomly pop up at the cemetery and report us. Our work is done here anyway. And it wasn't pretty.

It was the second time of my life to watch someone dig up a grave, and although I can't smell for shit right now, the white bones at the bottom of the dark pit gave me more than a clear idea. It seriously isn't a nice feeling to say the least, and I have to go through it another couple of times. Damien seemed nonchalant about it though, fucking devil. And he didn't seem so affected by pouring his blood on the bones either. Honestly, I'm glad we didn't wake Kyle up.

"Have we got everything?" Kyle scans his eyes around as Damien shuts the trunk close. "I think we have." He answers his own question.

We jump in the car and the redhead shudders at the sudden icy air attacking his skin. The snow chains clutter as we drive out of the forest, waiting for a more peaceful ride on the road. Yesterday's '_sho-pan'_ fills the car again as if trying to send us back into a second sleep. Thank god they just had coffee.

With the subtle sound of classical piano playing in the background the car falls into a deep silence. Kyle tucks himself into a ball, grasping his knees, and stares blankly out the flowing white view of the window. Damien simply keeps my eyes glued on the road.

"Hey Damien?" A soft voice murmurs through the hour-long silence. The antichrist finally takes my eyes off the road to glance at Kyle, who still stares out the window as if he hadn't said anything.

"Yes Kyle?" Damien asks to make sure Kyle doesn't wander back into a silence.

"Can we change roads? I want to see the creek." His answer is as quiet as ever.

"You do know it will be frozen?"

"Yeah, I know. We don't have to if you don't wanna."

"No," Damien says, "it's fine."

The road through the trees is even quieter, if you can believe it. But the rocking of the unsteady road creates some degree of liveliness. We arrive at the creek about an hour later, and as Damien predicted, the thing is as still as rock solid.

Damien parks the car a few yards from the creek. Our boots sink into the snow and cracks the frozen leaves under it when we step out of the car. The white snow coating the forest creates somewhat of a fantastic atmosphere, like a movie set. Kyle eagerly digs his way through.

"Do you think it'll brake if I walk on it?" He murmurs as he looks at his still reflection on the ice. He gives his face a good kick. It doesn't budge.

"You can try." Damien suggests, watching Kyle walk down the edge of the creek. His ponderous feet slowly begin to pick up its speed, into little trots, then into a hysterical sprint.

"Kyle!" My voice calls out at the running redhead. It doesn't do anything. He keeps on running like the world is about to end and I can hear his painful breaths scrape through his throat brutally as Damien tries to catch up. But his weakened legs don't let him run for too long and he suddenly drops his knees to the snowy ground like a broken doll.

"Damien…" Kyle manages through his ragged breaths. The antichrist kneels beside him worryingly, looking into his flushed face. "I want to talk to Stan."

My hand freezes on it's way to Kyle's shoulder, and Damien slowly draws it back.

"…As you wish."

Kyle looks up, slightly surprised when Damien does ask for an explanation, than gives a thankful nod but without a smile I subconsciously expect.

"Do you remember the words you have to say?" Damien asks as they connect hands.

"Yeah."

"Very well."

Damien closes my eyes as Kyle begins to lean in, his lips scraping the air against my ear. I hear him part his lips to draw the words out that call to me, those foreign words that sound like a song. In a quick second, I feel deep warmth sink into my palms.

"Hey Kyle." I smile contently as Kyle backs up, looking carefully into my face. He purses his lips and quickly averts his eyes.

"Sorry I had to do this." He sighs. "I just needed to ask you a favour."

"What is it?" My heart begins to sink when there's no sign of delight spreading across Kyle's face, only shame.

His eyes wander up to mine pleadingly. "Remember that song you played to me at the hospital?"

"Yeah, sure."

He tenses his lips. "Can you play it again for me?"

"Yeah, of course Ky." Ignoring my own confusion, I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly before we stand up and move towards the car.

He waits on one of the boulders on the bank of the creek as I get my guitar. Thank god I brought the thing with me.

I place my self on the rock across from his and steady my guitar comfortably on my knee.

"Ready?" I ask. His arms wrap tightly around his knees and he nods. "Okay." I breathe.

The soft picking of the guitar strings shakes the winter air softly and echoes off the frozen trees. I thank the snow for making everything so still and calm.

When my voice enters, I see the tension in Kyle's face slightly loosen into a subtle smile. It makes my voice become a little clearer.

"_Some call love a curse, some call love a thief but she's my… ho-ome."_

Does Kyle's lips part? Does he breathe out the lyrics with me?

"_She's as much a part for this broken heart see broken bones, always seem to… me-end."_

I make sure I look into his eyes as I say the words, make sure he hears them properly. He looks straight back, from my guitar to my eyes.

"_I'll taste the Devil's tears, drink from his soul, but I'll- never give up you."_

A quiet voice joins in the lyrics, careful not to overtake my voice, but all I can seem to hear is that sound, entering straight into me.

"_I'll taste the Devil's tears, drink from his soul, but I'll- never give up you."_

The calm humming comes to a stop along with the soft plucking of strings, leaving nothing but hollowness in the frozen atmosphere. I hear him breathe deeply and sink his face into his knees, hiding himself into his own shell.

I feel suddenly left alone, abandoned here powerless unable to help him.

"Kyle is there anything you're not telling me?"

But I don't want to stay that way.

His shoulders jump at my words and stay there tensed. Did he really think that I'd keep silent even while he acts so obviously distraught? But he doesn't say anything, just simply shakes against his knees.

"What are you sorry for?"

His face swings up and digs his wide eyes into me with disbelief.

"How- what…" He bites onto his trembling lips.

"You kept on saying that you were sorry, over and over in your sleep. What are you sorry for? Why would you apologise?"

"Stan- I,"

"No Kyle, please tell me. It's obviously eating you up, and it's eating me up too."

He blinks a few times desperately at me, then gives up and digs his hand into his hair.

"I'm sorry for everything." He states.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry that I got sick. I'm sorry that I broke up with you." His voice cracks and he averts his eyes, sliding his palm over his mouth. "I'm sorry I couldn't push you away. I'm sorry you had to go through watching me die." His emerald eyes begin to glisten and his voice begins to rise. "I'm sorry you sold your body for me. I'm sorry you have to go through all this shit."

My voice dies is the bottom of my throat, watching him lose himself in his desperate words. I watch him as he rocks his head down, covering his eyes with his fingers. I watch him as he tries to keep all his tears in while he tries to spill all his words out. I can only watch him.

"I'm sorry for everything…"

My guitar slips though my fingers and drops into the snow. But I don't look back to see if it's okay. I jump onto the boulder across of me and wrap my arms around the redhead.

"Dude, there's nothing you have to apologise for. You can't just choose not to get sick. Yeah it hurt when you broke up with me, but you thought it was for my own sake! Everything else was not your choice. They were mine. I chose to stay with you, I chose to sell my body, _I_ chose to go through this shit!" I can't contain my voice; I want him to hear my words nice and clear. "And I don't regret a single bit of it. They are the best choices I made in my life."

I see a smile twitch his lips under his palms.

"Even better than being with me?" He challenges weakly, finally taking his hands away from his face so that I can see him without his mask.

Without much thought, my lips press onto his; unable to contain myself once there is nothing in between us anymore. Warmth. Softness. Scent. I can feel his surprised breath brush against my skin.

"Dude, don't ruin my moment." I whisper, finally answering his question after we part. He laughs against my shoulder.

x

We arrive at Tarryall just in time to have a late lunch. The place is pretty much a ghost town, abandoned buildings and empty land over here and over there. It's hard to make out if there are any people living here at all.

The cemetery is not even in the town, but a few minutes hike into the forest. We don't even have to wake Kyle up this time; he was determined to stay up all through the drive.

"I guess we don't even have to spend the night there." Kyle says as we walk through the forest. "Do you think we can get to Bailey today?"

"Maybe. We will just have to wait and see." Damien answers quietly. He has been strange for the past few hours, as if he isn't ever strange. But he has been tense and quieter than usual.

"Yeah I hope-"

Kyle's voice cuts off, as something strange blacks out my sight. I think it's Damien cringing his eyes shut again.

"_Dude, you okay? Do you have a headache or something?" _I ask him for the third time.

His answer is the same. _"I'm fine."_

The small path leads into a slightly more open space and they pause our feet. We have arrived and the cemetery is definitely much less than what we expected, with only a few stones lying here and there, and a small crooked sign of 'Tarryall Pet Cemetery'.

"Well, this looks a bit easier. How do you know which one to dig Damien?" Kyle asks, bracing his shovel.

Damien wanders around, massaging my temple as he observes every stone.

"This one." He mutters when he comes upon a rock that looks exactly like the others. My hands grasp my shovel firmly and start digging. Kyle quickly trots up, making sure he doesn't make Damien do all the work.

"Ew…"

A mountain of repulsing bugs scatter around the pit of the hole when we reach the bones, making Kyle shudder in disgust. He watches as Damien takes a flask of blood out of my pocket and flings the cork off, chanting something under his breath as he pours the red liquid over the skeletons of the dead animal.

"Is that it?" Kyle asks as Damien puts the flask away.

"Yes, that's it." He swings my shovel over my shoulder and smiles at Kyle. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Assistance…" The redhead smirks as we head back out the forest.

x

We are back on the road as soon as they finish their lunches. More soup, and bread. But we don't have much of a choice. All Kyle brought with him was canned soup as well, and bread.

"What is it?" Kyle asks when the car comes to a sudden halt. "Did you forget something?"

"No, I-" Damien takes a step out the car. "I think it's around here."

"What is?"

My eyesight shifts around, searching. "The railway."

The devil begins to lead the way into the forest again, all his concentration moving onto something that neither Kyle nor I can manage to make out.

"Damien, are you sure it's around here? I mean, yeah, they did say that they had made the railway in the middle of nowhere but this is less than nowhere." But even as he asks so, Kyle digs his hands through the snow and frozen leaves, searching the ground like Damien, for some tracks. "But even if you do find them how do you think you're gonna break it?"

My hands pause when they brush against something hard and solid. A small smile crosses my lips.

"I'll show you."

Damien brushes the ground clear of leaves and other crap to let the shiny surface of iron peek through the thick layer of snow.

"Watch."

Kyle pops behind me and widens his eyes at the sight of the tracks.

My bare hand traces the frozen iron; I can almost feel the coldness tingle through my fingers as he does. And then at some sort of core, my whole body tenses, solid like a rock when Damien puts all his strength and concentration to that one hand resting on the shiny surface.

Every hair on my body stands up, my teeth grits together viciously and the air around me seems to be moving in a new wave. I hear Kyle gasp as the iron underneath my hand begins to glow steam red, the rusty rail slowly melting into the snow.

After a long agonising moment, the tension in the air suddenly snaps back into the present, letting Kyle's lungs come back to life as Damien pants heavily, scraping aggressive breaths through my throat.

"Dude, Damien, are you okay?" He asks worryingly, watching sweat troll down my jaw and my shoulders bounce with every single breath Damien takes.

"I'm fine." The antichrist finally manages, standing up onto my feet. "I've got the job done, haven't I?" He smiles confidently.

Kyle smirks lightly, but before he can make any remark a clear ringing shakes through my pocket, interfering whatever Kyle was about to say.

"Hello?" Damien answers swiftly, mildly annoyed.

"_You motherfucker!"_ A voice roars through the speaker, attacking any mortal ear that is placed close to it.

"Kenny," Damien sighs.

"_Don't 'Kenny' me you cocksucking asshole. I got your text. What the fuck do you mean you're goin' on a road trip with Kyle? You, Damien, a fuckin' road trip with Kyle!"_

"Kenny-"

"_Ah, ah! Whatever the fuck you are thinking, you just can't take an oblivious Kyle and-"_

"Kenny, he knows." Damien interrupts darkly; making the crazy blond shut his mouth up.

"_He knows you are the son of the Devil?"_ The voice asks quietly.

"Yes."

A short silence fills the cold air.

"_Fine, whatever. Where the fuck are you anyway?"_ Kenny quickly regains his sharp voice.

"On our way to Bailey. Don't worry McCormick, your two friends will be home by the day after tomorrow."

"_Yeah? If they won't I'll fucking kill you, ya got that?" _

"Oh, absolutely." Damien sneers sarcastically before hanging the phone up.

"Dude, what did you get up his ass?" Kyle asks, shocked, looking at Damien with confusion.

"Nothing. He is just what you would call a 'jerk"

"He isn't that bad, he's just a little protective."

Damien sighs deeply, and shoves my phone back into my pocket. "I know."

He looks down at the melted rail and looks back up at Kyle. "We should get going."

"Okay."

But just as Damien moves to take one step forward, my whole vision shakes again, more dizzily this time, sending Damien onto my knees.

"Dude, are you alright?" Kyle jumps up to my side worryingly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "Did you just use too much of your power?"

"No, I'm fine." Damien shrugs Kyle's arm off and steps back onto my feet, firmly this time without wobbling.

I feel Kyle's worried eyes on my back, bewildered and in knots, as Damien drags my feet out the forest.

Damien quickly swings the car door open to slide in, but pauses when he finds Kyle glaring at the passenger door, head hung low in shame.

"I would offer you to drive, but I don't have my license." He says tensely with frustration. "I mean, I would drive if I knew how to it's just, I never took the time into learning…" But before he drowns too deep into his guilt Damien walks around the car to rest my hand on his shoulder without hesitation, and squeezes reassuringly.

"Kyle, don't worry about it. I'm fine. My head just spun for a second there."

The redhead nods, and smiles crookedly, appreciating Damien's words but not believing them fully. But he slips into the passenger seat silently after that, so I think it's okay.

x

It doesn't take us as long as we thought it would to get to Bailey. After disconnecting the rails we chose to take the normal highway instead of the unsteady forest roads. That helped.

But every so often on the road Damien kept on getting specks of blackouts, not dangerous ones or anything. Just like, blinks that lasted too long, stuff that Kyle won't notice at least.

We arrive just as the setting sun disappears into the distant mountains, a sheet of stars approaching the still purple-tinted sky. Bailey, although not as big as Hartsel, is much more of a lively town. Packs of tourists can be heard from the local bars and restaurants laughing and chatting excitingly. We decide that we better wait way into midnight before digging any graves. But we find that the packs of tourists might be the best thing about Bailey. They have inns and a cheep motel not even a mile out.

"Hey, can we have a qu- I mean, a room with two singles for the night please?" Kyle asks red faced at his own mistake. The fat lady the size of a house eyes Kyle and then Damien standing in the doorway and lets out a masculine smirk, making the fat around her nose jingle. It sends a shiver right down Damien and my spine.

"God, that was embarrassing." Kyle face palms himself as we enter our room. "Why couldn't you do it instead?"

"I am socially awkward." Damien chuckles, watching the pink continue to flush Kyle's cheeks.

"Yeah well, it wouldn't have been as aw- Ah!" The redhead yelps when his clumsy foot catches the dent in the floor, sending him into my chest.

The impact of his feather-like weight is like a blow to the head. My whole vision twirls and blacks out for a moment, long enough to make us both crash into the ground.

"Holy shit! Damien, are you okay?" Kyle panics, sliding himself off my legs to crawl up beside my face. His expression turns blank when he doesn't immediately get a response. "Damien?"

My blurry eyes slowly come into focus, waking to find Kyle's face barely inches from mine.

"Dude, Damien? What's wrong? Dude, do you have a fever?" Kyle leans over and bonks his forehead against mine. Damien quickly pulls out from his reach.

"You don't seem to have a fever, I guess."

My eyes sight shakes again as Damien cringes. "Kyle, I'm fine-"

"No. You're. Not!" His voice shakes the room. "Dude, you weren't okay when I asked you before and you're not okay now! Now tell me what is wrong!"

A few shaky breaths leave my lips as Damien massages my forehead, debating on what to do.

"My senses are in knots." He mutters under my breath, but Kyle catches it clearly.

"From exhaustion? From when you melted the railway? I knew it! Why didn't you just tell me-"

"No." Damien interferes, letting my eyes fall back onto Kyle's. "My powers are very limited in this body and using them causes a lot of energy but- no. What caused this is switching consciousness with Stan."

"…Huh?"

"Switching consciousness with others while in the same body for a long period of time causes some mental miss or disconnections. That is why I am reluctant to doing it. It is like having total sleep deprivation for days. Melting the rail only contributed to that."

"Dude, why didn't you tell me?" Kyle says desperately as he pulls my body up into a sitting position. "I wouldn't have made you do it if you did."

Damien leans my heavy body into Kyle arms, having not much choice in doing so.

"It's better than watching you blame yourself to death." Damien murmurs with a weak smile. "It's better than watching you cry."

Kyle looks surprised with his words, almost taken aback.

"When did I cry?"

"Last night. In your sleep." Damien sighs.

"Okay, you're going to bed _now_." Kyle bites, struggling to pick himself up with my body in his arms. "Fuck Stan's heavy." He mumbles as he drags the heavy weight to one of the beds.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." Kyle slaps one of my feet playfully before jumping on his own bed beside me.

He begins to bob his head to the music inside him, until it begins to leak out of him as a hum. It's a familiar tune. Very familiar in fact, making me want to laugh if I could. I know he knew I would too.

"naaaaa-nanana… lay your weary head to reeee-eeest…" The lyrics finally flow out of his mouth, making Damien smirk lightly.

"Don-"

_Bang!_

I loud fist hits the entrance door, cutting Kyle's singing and making him jump onto his butt.

"The fuck?" He mutters, hopping off the bed and crossing to the door.

"Maybe it's Mrs. Eric Cartman." Damien suggests, indicating the whale-like lady at the reception.

"Maybe." Kyle cackles as he unlocks the door. Damien, losing interest and energy just by lifting my head up, sinks back into the mattress and closes my eyelids.

I hear the door open and Kyle's chuckles freeze in the air, in what seems to be shock.

"Hey, dude." I hear a familiar voice say. It makes the floor squeak as Kyle takes a step back and the door creaks open to get a better look at whoever may be the intruder.

"Kenny?"

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><p><strong>A.N- Okay, I'm not gonna lie. This story doesn't have much left. I don't know how much I can put into one chapter, but probably no more than two chapters and maybe an epilogue. Wow! <strong>

**Please review! They are what tell me that people are actually reading my things and I am so grateful for those who have stuck with me this far. **

**Only a bit more to go, and a lot more action! On a roll like rock n roll honeh. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N- Hey! There's gonna be much more action here on now so I changed the genre- yet again! Anyway, Thank you so much for reviewing:**

**Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Kenny with his creepy tracking device, love it!)**

**XWhiteRabbitX times two! (I read back the earlier chapters and I've been deliberately changing writing styles, because when I'm re-reading I get really bored and the tempo doesn't seem right. I thought it was because I was being too descriptive on emotions. But do you like the earlier chapters better? You review like a ninja! Love you!)**

**VagaryFlin (Glad you like it!)**

**And sexyablonde (I know! The lack of Dyle, (sigh))**

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter Sixteen: The King of Demons<span>_

"Kenny?"

The call of the unexpected name flings my eyes open, and with great difficulty, Damien pulls my torso up, stars interfering my vision as he does.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

And no lie, there he is, leaning comfortably against the doorway with his hands digging into his parka pockets, looking down at Kyle with an entertained glint in his eyes.

"Surprise." He kisses the air with perked lips, letting out a flirtatious smirk.

"Surprise? Surprise- oh fuck it, come in." Kyle pulls the blonde's arm aggressively out of his pocket, making Kenny tumble into the room as the redhead slams the door shut behind him. He turns after the loud 'slam!' Revealing an irritated pout in place, emerald eyes narrowing and thin arms crossing in front of his chest defensively as he faces Kenny hopping to gain balance.

"Thanks for welcoming me in Kyle." The blond smiles, looking down at the accusing redhead. "Damien." His smile and sparkle in his eyes instantly drop when he greets the antichrist.

Damien doesn't say anything, just narrows my eyes as the stars begin to fade out of my vision.

"Kenny, listen to me." Kyle snaps his fingers in front of Kenny's glaring eyes to catch his attention, dragging the piercing blue eyes off of me. "What the fucking hell are you doing here." He pronounces each word clearly, but then quickly shakes his head in realisation. "Actually, _how_ the fuck did you get here?"

"I came here with my truck dude, what else?" A smile returns onto Kenny's thin lips as fast as changing channels and he plops himself onto the foot of my bed. "I couldn't trust a word that little devil says so I decided to come here. I knew you would be here since it's the cheapest place around. The fat lady at the counter told me which room you guys were in."

"_So much for… whatever legal business works around there."_ I mumble. Damien snorts.

But Kenny… What the fuck is he thinking? Is he really that paranoid that Damien is just gonna dangle Kyle from the ankles at the top of a building and let him go just for some demonic pleasure? Is he really _that_ protective?

A deep sigh leaves Kyle's throat and the redhead pinches the bridge of his nose, a familiar habit that makes me want to smile watching him do it.

"Kenny," Kyle says softly as he takes his own space on his bed, "we aren't on just any kind of vacation you know."

"Oh really?"

"Really." Kyle glares at Kenny's slight sarcasm. "We are actually doing something very important and we are nearly done. We honestly would have been done and be on our way home tomorrow, even without you worrying."

His green emerald eyes swim until they land on mine, staring as he asks the question through green sparkles: _"Can I tell him?"_

Damien shrugs in confirmation.

"Okay." Kyle nods. "Damien, you should rest now. We only have a few hours until we should go to work."

"Work? What work?"

But we all ignore Kenny's voice and Damien smiles thankfully, before dropping my back heavily into the bed. I barely hit the mattress before the antichrist drowns into a complete sleep.

I try and listen into their conversation once the antichrist drifts into calm breaths, but Kyle, with his caring nature, talks really quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping devil, making it hard for me to listen in. Kenny on the other hand, doesn't seem care that much about keeping his voice down low.

"…Dude, you ain't taking shit out of my ass Kyle. Really? Oh yeah. Huh? What! Sick… ...So you already finished most of them? …Lower Crow Hill Cemetery is the last one left? …Huh."

Just by listening to his changing tone, rising high and low, calm to sarcastic, and what he says is enough to determine where the conversation is at. Kenny is more understanding of the whole issue, although he sounds very critical of it, and doesn't confront Kyle for too much detail. Or maybe he just doesn't want to get himself too confused.

Their voices slowly pick up a new tone, high and playful, Kyle even forgetting to keep his voice low at times. A few hours seem to pass with them just having a pleasant conversation.

"Aw, Kenny. We all know you're here because you were feeling _soooo_ lonely in South Park, alone with no one but fatass to comfort you." Kyle's voice coos.

"Yeah. I was _soooo_ fucking lonely." I can practically hear Kenny roll his eyes, but then his voice turns a tone deeper, words coming out of a frown. "But dude, seriously. You don't know how much I was worried about you. Both of you. I mean how could you! He's the fucking son of Satan for fuck's sake! Aren't you scared at all? Don't you even think?"

"Kenny, Goddamn it. Just because he's the son of anyone doesn't mean shit!"

"Why wouldn't it?" Kenny barks in amusement. "Kyle, he's the prince of darkness. He's probably tortured millions of souls, killed, burned innocent people still alive! Who knows what he's been up to, really, huh? You can't trust him! Why the hell would you even _be_ with him?"

He doesn't sound as outraged as his words might indicate, but more- _challenging_. Honestly confused, unable to understand Kyle's thoughts or intentions. But whatever thoughts he's having, his asshole attitude is making even _me_ irritated and frustrated. God knows how it's affecting Kyle.

"What The Fuck Is Wrong With You?" A desperate voice bellows, torn between sadness and rage. "Damien isn't like that at all! He has emotions just like a human being, and he is much more polite than you or me! You're the one who has been with him the most, more than any of us, why wouldn't you know that! You should know better, dude. You don't sound like yourself."

"I don't?" Kenny blinks in wonder; I imagine from his surprised voice. "Well, sorry, I guess. I'm just a little- _confused_ right now." And he sounds it too.

A long silence dominates them for a long moment, and all I hear is ragged breathing, until a hardly audible chuckle rustles the air.

"Kyle, can you get me a beer?"

"What? Dude, I'm not getting a beer from the motel fridges! None of us are old enough!"

"Yeah, I mean, can you get me a beer from my truck? I have a stash in the back."

"Kenny why would you-"I hear a small growl of frustration leak out of Kyle's throat. "Whatever. No, go grab it yourself dude."

The sound of dangling keys –probably of Kenny's truck- rustles, followed by the blonde's cooing voice. "Pretty please, Kyle? I'll promise I'll behave if you do." And honestly, how could a reasonable friend of Kenny's such as Kyle say no to that?

"Fine." Kyle spits and snatches the keys off the blond. "But I'm only getting you one."

"Sounds good ta me. Thanks dude."

With merely a grunt in response, I hear the door slam close.

As expected, an eerie, almost ear-hurting silence follows. I feel suddenly stiff and watched, like a monkey being observed in a cage.

The springs in the bed slightly creak and I notice that Kenny has lifted himself off the foot of this bed. Where the fuck is he going? I think, until I hear steps approach right up beside my head. I imagine my heart begin to race, sweat forming on the back of my neck; but the twitch in my toes, that is not my imagination.

"How is it in there, Damien?" Kenny says, bitterness lingering in his mocking tone. And is he- caressing my cheek? "You comfortable little Dee?" His voice whispers into my ear, and for that second I turn into stone. My whole body freezes, petrified.

An amused hum rings out of Kenny quietly, and the hand caressing my cheek pats the skin a couple of times before I hear him begin to retreat back to the foot of my bed.

What the fuck? What the fuck was that all about?

"Kenny I got your fucking beer- your truck's a friggin' mess dude, it stunk!" A disgusted voice rocks the room when the door is slammed back open, announcing the return of the redhead. "Here. And I told you: only one." I imagine him hand the beer reluctantly to Kenny.

"Thanks dude." A cheerful voice thanks. The top of the beer instantly shoots off, and I hear the small bubbles fizzing inside the bottle. A few long gulps, and then comes a loud breath of content. "Ah- life." Kenny says.

"Is it really _that_ good?" The redhead muses amusingly.

"Good? Dude," more eye-rolling I presume, "try for yourself."

From the small clicking of nails on glass, I can tell that the bottle has been given from Kenny to Kyle. I imagine the redhead staring at the bottle, held securely in his two hands, with a troubled gaze. He won't drink it.

"What Kyle? Come on, it's just a little sip!"

But Kenny's words provoke him.

"I know!" And he lifts the bottle up, cold glass pressing against his soft lips, and the liquid begins to enter his mouth; I can visualise it, and then I can see it.

My body swings up into the air, almost like a reaction, and my eyes goggle at Kyle with anxious disbelief, my breath slightly rigid. Everything seems to move in slow motion. His eyes glue tightly closed, eyebrows knotted together, as his Adam's apple moves up- then down.

"Damien, are you okay?" Kyle asks, after letting out a small cough from his sip of beer. My wide eyes move from the worried redhead to the blond smirking at me provokingly, and then back to Kyle.

"Are _you_ alright?" My voice asks in confusion, my eyes not blinking. "I mean," Damien nods at the bottle of beer, "do you feel any different?"

"What?" Kyle chuckles, slightly taken aback. "Just because I never drink doesn't mean I can't take a small sip of beer y'know?"

Finally, Damien lets my eyes blink, a few times in confusion. "Huh…" He breathes out and shakes my head.

"Yeah, what did you think I'll do Dee? Drug him up 'n' rape him?" Kenny rolls his eyes as he takes the bottle back from Kyle to take a large gulp. Kyle, scrunching his nose up in disgust, pushes Kenny's shoulder with irritation for that remark, making the blond cough a few times on his bitter drink.

"Shut the fuck up will you!" He hisses quickly, then his eyes run back to meet mine.

"Damien, you woke up at the perfect time!" The redhead smiles. "I just went outside and Bailey seemed pretty mellowed out. The whole town was almost completely black and silent. I think all the tourists decided to have an early night."

Again, Kyle's quick switch of thought puts my slow mind into mild confusion, but Damien understands that statement instantly, even without thought.

"I guess I'll get going then." My voice suggests as Damien lifts my recovered body off the bed, stretching slightly before hopping onto the floor. Kyle follows suit by swinging his jacket around his shoulders, before Damien lifts a hand to stop him.

"You don't need to come Kyle, but can you do me a favour and keep an eye on that blond?" A loud, rumbling burp interferes Damien's words and we all swing our heads to glare at Kenny, who shrugs with a sheepish smile. The antichrist sighs tiredly and turns back to Kyle. "Babysit him please while I finish this off?"

Kyle, as if to measure his options, takes another glance at Kenny, who fiddles with the label on the beer bottle until he notices our gaze and lifts his eyebrows.

"Or I can come you know?"

"I'll look after him." Kyle ignores Kenny's words and says with a series of reassuring nods, making Damien smile with kind appreciation.

"Thank you. Call me if anything goes wrong."

Kyle smirks, half rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Because babysitting Kenny is such a hard chore. Dude, I'll be fine. Go-"

He gives my back a playful push and Damien stumbles out the room, managing to grab my bag skilfully on the way out.

The pinning air attacks my face when we get outside; I can feel it tingling my senses. I'm on the verge to getting my body back and I'm beginning to feel, if only slightly, like tickling the surface of a fingernail. Damien may have gotten his energy back, but there's still something that has definitely gone haywire, and I mean more than before. The sense quickly disappears when Damien hops into the car.

"_You must be excited."_ Damien asks in a tone I can't really make out, and the delivery roars to life.

For some reason suddenly, my mind feels mellowed out. Like, when a fierce wind feels like it's blowing away all your thoughts when you're in the car with the window down. _"'bout what?" _I ask.

"_About gaining your own body back, of course."_

"_Oh, yeah."_ I sound as if I've just noticed that small fact. And I have, and now that I have, I don't know how to feel. _"Of course I am." _

And then, inside me, there is warmth that begins to spread. And subtly, I feel excited, and purely happy. I will be able to feel him again, with my own hands under my own control.

_The idea. _

We arrive in a matter of seconds; it makes me wonder why we even took the car. And just as Kyle said, it's as if a sudden silent spell has been cast on the whole town.

"Perfect working conditions." Damien comments and flings the shovel over my shoulder. As he walks through the snow, my footsteps shake the silent air around us, a little too loudly for my comfort.

'Lower Crow Hill Cemetery'

It is just outside the town, slightly into the forest. The rusty sign, not being touched for nearly ten years, creaks slightly under the soft wind, begging for some mending. The cemetery isn't much, but it's better than Tarryall Cemetery. There are proper stones, and although small, they all have names carved into them.

My feet stop in front of one of them, and Damien leans into the shovel, its tip digging into the snow and gravel underneath. It's the one stone that doesn't have a name.

"Our last seal." Damien murmurs and shoves the shovel deep down and begins digging. At least we don't have to dig six-feet under like humans. Man, that would be a nightmare, more than this.

The shovel is cast aside and we look down at the white bones of the animal, lying oblivious of its important role of keeping the land pure of demons, and how that is all about to break.

"Well, this is it."

The antichrist takes the glass flask out of my pocket, the deep red liquid glowing under the faint light of the moon and stars. The cork pops off with an easy snap of the thumb, and the liquid dances around the rim of the glass as Damien begins to tilt my wrist.

"Finally, it's over."

And the blood pours onto the bones of the beast, _its purified land being blemished with the stain of the devil's blood_, as the liquid flourishes the dry soil_._

He falls silent for a while, feeling the cold wind hit my face, the silence evaporating into fire around him, the broken seal releasing something inside, something so deep I can't even imagine… That is what I imagine.

"_Do you feel any different?" _I finally gather the guts to ask him, saving my itching curiosity.

"_It's hard to say." _He blinks and breathes, travelling his eyes from the flourished bones to the skin of my hands, looking with confusion._ "Not really. But I'm not sure if I'm meant to feel anything. I'm not in my body, after all." _

"_Well, we can arrange that out easily enough." _

He turns silent in response, and grips my hand tightly as if to feel his own control.

For the last time.

x

He chucks the shovel into the trunk along with my bag, careful not to hit the lying body, lifeless, but not for long. Damien grabs his own body by the ankles and slides him out of the car, easily enough, he falls out onto my chest.

"_Wow dude, careful not to rub that thing off your chest."_

"_The seal is broken now, Stan." _He says wearily, making me feel like an idiot.

Damien rests his body onto the ground, letting the body lean against the tire of the delivery. His body is frozen and seems to be so cold, and it is hard to believe that it will come back to life at all.

My hand lifts up the shirt of the lifeless body, close to his collarbone, until a star drawn with dried blood appears on his chest. Watching it, my breathing seems to skip a turn, but Damien tries to ignore it. He licks my thumb and begins to rub my spit against the dry blood, and slowly, the red comes off, just enough to create a disjoint on the pentacle.

A short sigh leaves my lips, a breath of relief as he looks at the incomplete symbol, and releases his shirt to let the fabric fall back over his skin.

"_Is that in then?"_ I ask the antichrist. Now that the time has come, it seems almost too easy to go back into my body, and too hard to believe it. But I can feel myself getting excited. It's true.

Suddenly, something vibrates inside my pocket and makes Damien jolt, letting him relax when the sound of hard rock music shakes the silent night around us.

"_Who is it?"_ I ask him as he slides my phone out. The devil ignores my question and flips the cell on.

"Kyle?" Damien murmurs in confusion. His name flashes on my phone, the bright blue light glowing in the darkness.

"_Do you think he's having some trouble with Kenny?" _He asks, probably not used to someone calling him, besides Pip.

"_He might've. Kenny's an immature brat sometimes." _

"Hello?" Damien asks through the speaker, no alarm in my voice, just expecting some nagging or complaining from a troubled redhead. But all we're greeted by is, not the high-pitched voice, but a repetitive 'Beep', eerie in this darkness.

Confused, Damien takes the phone off my ear and stares at it with round eyes, watching it blankly as it continues to cry out a lonely 'Beep'.

"I wonder…" My voice whispers as Damien hangs up the unsuccessful call.

"_Maybe it wasn't that urgent?" _I suggest, having experienced similar experiences from Kyle uncountable times. He usually does that. Calls someone half-heartedly then ends it before the person picks up, realising how 'meaningless' his call was.

With a small shrug, Damien slides my phone back into my pocket and goes back to observing his body.

I can tell that his stone-like body is melting back into its soft state, and his ever-so-subtle sign of life colouring his skin. And inside his shirt, his chest rises calmly, and sinks back down, whispering the quiet sound of air breathing in and out of him. His body is truly alive.

"_Oh God, do I have to kiss you again?"_ I groan as he kneels in front of his body, my hand resting on Damien's cheek.

"_I don't want to do this as much as you."_ He says. Again. It makes me smirk.

"_Are you ready?"_ The antichrist asks me one last time.

And God, _"Would I ever be…"_

He chuckles. Then my hand tilts Damien's face up, the thumb pressing down on his jaw to open up his mouth. And then after one last moment, our mouths connect.

What do I feel? For a second I don't feel anything. But then a second later, I feel smoke, or wind, swelling me up like a balloon. My senses, like an explosion, shoot right through my body, from the tips of my hair to the tingling of my fingers. There's so much to feel, it's overwhelming. And then, just as quickly, I feel myself deflate.

I blink, I see, then I move my hand and stare at it. I notice my lungs moving, air coming in and out of me. I grip my hands, so tightly that the nails dig into my skin.

I feel pain.

I release my hand and grip again.

I smile.

"I see it has worked." A dry voice says and the figure in front of me moves. He is dressed in charcoal black, from head to toe, but his skin is almost shining snow white. His black nails rise into the air as he stretches his back and lets a groan of content out from the top of his throat. He releases his body and relaxes, cracking his neck from side to side.

"Hello Stan." He says. And there are two glowing ruby eyes blazing down on me, a small smile tinting his white lips.

"Hey Damien." I say, and give a smile back.

The antichrist chuckles and drops his pale hand for me to take. I gratefully take it, and he swings me up to my feet with ease. Where he hides that strength in his lanky frame, I would never know.

"So how do you feel, dude? Good to be back in your own body?"

He scratches the back of his neck and glances up at me with a smile. "Good as ever." Then he looks back down and sighs, ever so subtly. "But there's one thing I don't understand..."

"What?"

But he ignores my question and slides into the car.

"We shouldn't keep Kyle waiting. Especially with that little blond."

"Oh yeah!" I cheer, a little too loudly as I slide into the car.

Kyle would be waiting. Kyle has always been waiting. I can't wait to see his face when he sees me! I can't wait for many things…

The car roars to life and Damien slides back onto the dimly lit road of Bailey. The cassette has ended and there is no music, but I'm way too excited to care. I look outside the window with a wide grin, I feel as though my whole body is shaking.

"Hey, check it out." I call automatically when something catches my eye outside. "They have a church. And look, there's a small cemetery at the back." I feel Damien glance out, and then glance back just as quickly without interest. "Why didn't your dad just bury a goat in there, make a small pet cemetery in there or something?"

"Because that cemetery was made after the seal was created. It is too new."

"Oh…"His logical answer barely reaches my brain and I simply continue to stare at the church as we past by.

x

I tumble out of the car before it comes to a halt, and try to sprint up to our motel room with two left feet. My heart is about to burst inside my ribcage from excitement and my mouth is about to split from the wide grin. I'm not yet used to such overwhelming feelings, but I don't care. I couldn't care less right now.

My feet stop in front of the room, and for a very long minute I just stand there and try to get my breath back. It's too loud, my breathing; I have to calm it down so I can hear his voice properly.

I gulp down a chunk of saliva, tense up my whole body from toe to ear, and grip the doorknob. _Wait, why the fuck am I so nervous? _I shake my head at my ridiculousness and let my body relax. A natural smile rests on my lips and I swing the door open.

"Kyle!"

I practically shout out his name, not caring the time or any of the neighbours. The excitement is driving me blind.

But when I open the door, when I see the scene inside, I freeze. My eyes freeze. My lips freeze. My lungs freeze. I can't react to the quiet sobbing, or the mixture of heavy breaths. That is, until my brain begins to work, begins to comprehend, and my eyes begin to widen in shock.

The light is off, the moonlight behind me being the only source of light. But it is enough to show. To show the cabinets dragged out of their spaces, and books and papers fallen on the floor. To show a shattered beer bottle on the carpet, glass shining off the moonlight. And then finally, to show the two figures on the messed up bed.

Under the moonlight I see, his skin is flushed in deep crimson, and glistening from sweat and slight traces of regretful tears leaking from his eyes. Heavy breaths gasp out of his wet mouth as another attacks his lips, hungrily, insanely. His shirt is pushed up and the button and zipper of his jeans are free, free for hands to caress his skin. Kyle's skin. _My_ Kyle's skin.

They don't even notice me at the door, too preoccupied with their own situation. Kyle, body turned into heavy lead, struggles to resist the blond pushing him deeper into the bed. And the blond, who is he? Kenny, doesn't even seem to care as he continues to strive for what he wants.

All this observation is done in a second. And I instantly regret wasting that second just standing there, waiting for my brain to catch up with the situation. .

"KENNY!" I roar, disgust and rage from my voice shakes the walls as I dive towards the blond. I get him by his hood and swing him back off Kyle mercilessly, making him crash into the floor. But I don't check to see if the bastard is okay. I rush to Kyle, breathing heavily on the bed.

"Kyle! Kyle? Are you okay?" I call to him desperately. Cupping his cheeks and looking into his eyes, wet and hazy, as they slowly focus onto mine.

"…Stan?" He whispers through aggressive pants. The desperateness in his voice is enough to drive me into near insanity. But then there is this smile. A warm, small smile that appears on his lips as he looks into me. It keeps my mind together.

"Stan... You're back-" He manages out.

"Yeah, Kyle. Dude, I'm right here-"

But the second those words leave my lips, I'm sent flying through the air and smash against the opposite wall. A shock of excruciating pain shoots through my whole body as I fall to the floor, my hands digging into shattered glass as I try to save myself from impact.

"How disappointing…" A dark voice says; it's Kenny voice, yet it's coloured with black amusement, confidence, and danger. "We were having so much fun together. Weren't we, Kyle?"

I manage to lift my head, to see Kenny above me looking over at the redhead still panting on his bed.

"Oh well. We can continue once this is over with." He drops his eyes and looks down on me, coldly, but with a dagger of a smile on his thin lips.

But what sends a shiver down my spine, is not the smile, or the coldness of his expression, but his glowing eyes. Glowing, in dark crimson, the colour of rich wine.

His smile grows as he sees the fear and confusion on my face and squats down in front of me, bright, yet dark amusement on his face. But just as instantly, he gets back up onto his feet, grinning sadistically at the empty doorway. At someone at the doorway. At someone with furious fire burning his eyes at the doorway.

"Well, heya Dee. Long time no see." Kenny calls confidently at the demon taking a step into the room, fiery eyes locking in with the blonde's wine-coloured ones. Damien's eyes blaze with rage, but deep down, I wish I couldn't tell, but there's fear there. Deep fear, and regret.

"Asmodeus."

The antichrist states dangerously. It takes me a second to notice that it is a call of a name.

"Kenny?" I ask pathetically at the blond in confusion. He turns around with bitter eyes, a sudden firm frown on his lips.

"Didn't you hear Damien? It is Asmodeus. Or Ashmedai, if you want. Call me Ash." He winks and turns back to Damien. My head spins and I've gone dizzy. I feel like throwing up.

"Anyway," The second demon says, looking back at Damien, licking his lips excitedly. "It's nice to see ya back in your own body Dames. It really is. Especially when-" He pauses to chuckle at himself, like remembering a vulgar joke that he knows is not meant to be laughed at. Slowly, his shoulders stop shaking from laughter, and he looks up, eye glowing. "Especially when the seal hasn't been broken yet."

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><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading! I'm not going to complain about my writing, not gonna- (bites lip)<strong>

**I have been waiting to write Asmodeus for so long! So long! Funny story, at first it was going to be Ike he possesses instead of Kenny. The creepy obsessed little brother fallowing his big brother. And it was going to be Kyle possessed by Damien, leading to a more angsty scenario. But then I wanted to write about school so I decided him to possess Stan instead. **

**But who cares, right?**

**Will the next chapter be the last? Probably! And then an epilogue.**

**Please, review? **


	17. Chapter 17

**A.N- Last proper chapter! Yes?**

**Thank you for reviewing:**

**WxTxR (Ooh, is it confusing? I try to make as un-confusing as possible. Me and my stupid writing skillz…)**

**Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Sorry, I just lurrrve cliff hangers ;))**

**And Annabeth The Unicorn (Interesting thoughts there. I could explain it all in a PM if you want? Or do you want it as a mystery?)**

**Let's just het straight on to it, shall we?**

**Hope you enjoy~**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Seventeen: As last words turn to ash<span>_

Who is he? He's not Kenny, that's for sure.

He has a dark aura around him; it makes you choke when you breathe the same air as him, it makes you freeze when you look into his wine-coloured eyes. But he is too human-like to be called a monster. That's the most terrifying thing- he is _too_ human.

And that tells me, almost like an instinct: he is too dangerous.

x

The air stops; the room turns still.

What the demon says is something I can't seem to understand, or maybe it's just that I don't want to understand what it meant.

He snickers at our reaction: the only sound, only lively thing moving in this room free from shock. The rest of us, are frozen. Even Kyle's rapid breaths seem to stop for a second, like a choke.

But I try, with my stupid brain.

"What do you mean?"

"Huh?" The demon stops his cackling and turns his head swiftly to look down on me with a wide smile.

I gulp down a chunk in my throat, creating way for words to come out.

"What do you mean the seal isn't broken yet? I was there. I saw Damien pour his blood into the last grave- The seal should be broken now…"

"Yes it should. Strange that, isn't it?" Asmodeus acts out sarcastically with Kenny's finger to his chin.

"Yeah!" I suddenly say with this bursting confidence. "So we're not going to get sucked in by your- your manipulating words!"

The demon looks at me, batting his round wine eyes a couple of times with amusement.

"Well, if you don't believe what I say…" He turns around to the devil frozen a few feet away, a sharp smile still in tact. "Tell me Damien. How do you feel right now? Comfortable? A little cramped, perhaps?"

The antichrist cringes, thin fingers clenching into a tight fists as he grits his sharp teeth together. And he looks down, shaking slightly. It makes the life flow out of me, or maybe it's hope.

"Damien?" I ask carefully. "What does he mean?"

He stays in a heavy silence for a second, listening to Kyle's bated breaths. And then the muscles in his jaw relax and he opens his mouth.

"I feel like there are chains holding me down." He says slowly. "The Devil's seal limits a demon's power to an extent, even before it operates and the demon is sent back to Hell."

Kenny rolls his arms impatiently, waiting for the good stuff. It makes Damien grind his own teeth together.

"It means that the seal isn't broken yet." He concludes. "It means I only have an hour or so before the seal operates, and I am sent back to Hell."

What I feared. Was true.

"But how…?" Kyle asks, scraping out words through his dry and loud panting throat. "After all we did… Are you saying that the way we were trying to break the seal was wrong? Was just pouring your blood and breaking the railway not enough?"

Damien tenses; then drops his sharp eyes to the ground.

"No. The process to break the seal was flawless. Or at least, it was meant to be."

It suddenly pops up in my head. In my slow, not-so-bright head. A scene of the small church of Bailey.

"The church…!" I gasp out. The word grabs Damien's attention and he swings his head towards me. "The church we past earlier. It had a cemetery!" I cheer.

"I told you that that cemetery is too new-" But his frustrated eyes slowly widen in realisation, the subtle colour of life leaving his face in shock. "Unless-"

A loud yawn suddenly interrupts his words. The slovenly sound somehow squeezes us like a dangerous threat.

"You know, as much as I _love_ listening you guys talk about your thoughts and evaluations…" Kenny's voice says, with a cold edge to it. "It is as boring as fuck."

There is a loud _BANG_ of an explosion in my ear, like a sudden piercing ringing. Then everything hurls onto me. Onto us. With pain.

I hear Kyle being dragged off the bed with a heavy thud to the ground. His aggressive breaths turn into a quick squeak. But I can't do anything. Even before I can _think_ about doing anything an instant shock of pain gashes through my limbs, like invisible chains wrapping around me and ripping me apart.

Somewhere not so far, I hear Damien drop to his knees, groaning harshly at the bottom of his throat, probably in more pain than I am in.

I can't even imagine that.

When I'm released from the excruciating pain barely a second later, my whole body simply crashes to the ground, my uncontrollable breaths hitting against the shattered beer bottle under me, the glass ripping my cheek. But that's the least of my concerns.

"I hate being ignored, you know?"

The sound of cracking glass under shoes, and I notice that Kenny- no, Asmodeus, is walking away from me.

"But you already know that. Don't you? Lil' Dee."

He crouches in front of Damien with a dark sneer, Kenny's slender fingers grasping the devil's thick black hair to make him meet his eyes under the immense pain.

Looking into Damien's expression of hatred and fear, he blinks in satisfied pleasure and lets the antichrist go- letting him fall to the ground. I feel slight relief when Asmodeus let's go of him, but it turns into a wave of terror when his feet move towards the redhead lying on the floor, shoulders still rising and falling from his heavy breaths.

Wait- why is he still panting so much?

"Okay, two options." Asmodeus states clearly, scooping Kyle off the ground by his arm and onto his feet.

Kyle's legs are weak, like jelly underneath him. His eyes are glazed over and out of focus, glistening slightly. His cheeks are burning red and his cat-like lips parted for heavy breaths to come out of his wet mouth.

There is something wrong with him. Terribly wrong. And I have only just noticed.

"Options One!" Kenny's voice shocks my attention back onto the demon holding Kyle firmly. "Damien, you come back to Hell with me so you can go back to your dad and I can go back to work. No one gets hurt- _that much_. I promise." He breathes in the smell of Kyle's hair and lets out a long breath of content, provoking our rage. That get's that option out of the way.

"Option Two!" He exclaims, but the atmosphere around him suddenly cools down, and Kenny's voice comes out much more calmly. "People _do_ get hurt."

Before we can even make a reaction, move a single hair on our bodies, Kyle's excruciating cry of pain rocks our eardrums. The redhead locks his eyelids firmly together and falls to his knees, crying towards the dark ceiling as he does, clenching, digging his thin fingers deep into his stomach.

"Kyle!" I scream. I plead. "Jesus Christ! STOP! What the fuck are you doing to him, STOP!"

"I'm just giving him what he had a couple of months ago." The demon says amusingly, squeezing harder and harder into Kyle's arm. "Without the morphine of course."

I hear coughing in the pit of Kyle throat, mixed with the sound of bubbling blood. The sound of him dying.

My hands, knees, my whole body lifts off the floor automatically to run for the suffering redhead. But before I can do anything, there is a sudden flash of light, an explosion, before my eyes.

Kenny's body is sent flying into the wall behind him, his grasp on Kyle easily broken from the impact. But before the freed redhead crashes to the ground, I'm luckily there to catch him. I can't tell if he freezes or shakes in my arms.

I look back, seeing the figure that sent the demon crashing into the wall standing menacingly behind me. Black clothed arm extended out, long white fingers penetrating the air. His eyes, blazing a dangerous fire, are cold.

"Don't you dare touch him." He hisses, like a shadow creeping out of his mouth.

The demon, Asmodeus, drops to the floor chuckling breathlessly without amusement, cracked layers of paint falls with him, leaving a large dent in the wall. He chuckles, with each small cackle filled with rage. And Damien simply looks down at him with disgust.

"I don't care if you are here because my father ordered you to. I don't care if you are the destroyer or the king of all demons. You will not touch Kyle or Stan. Or you will feel my wrath."

The chuckling stops, and the two demons stare at each other with eyes made of stone. But for a short moment, I see the wine-coloured eyes swift away from Damien and onto me- more specifically, onto the still body lying in my arms.

What's this heat?

"Ngh… huh," A shock of breath wakes me and I look down to see that the heat is coming from the boy panting against me. Kyle, sweat and breath. He's hot. His skin is burning.

"Damien!" I shout in fear. The devil looks at me in alarm and I hold Kyle properly against my chest to show him the urgency. "He's burning up!"

It's a mistake.

The demon uses that one instant of Damien's distraction to punch the devil straight in the gut, only, Kenny's hand comes out the other side. His hand rips straight through the devil's meat, leaving a large hole in the stomach of the antichrist.

At first I can't believe what I see. A hand, Kenny's hand just ripped straight through a man's stomach as if it were paper! But when Damien falls to his knees, and when Kenny's red-coated hand is taken out of the devil's flesh, small bits of organs and thick blood splatters all over the floor beneath him. And Asmodeus looks at him with satisfaction.

"You know you shouldn't talk to me like that Damien, you imbecilic infant."

He says that with Kenny's voice, and lets the young devil cough out blood over his pale hands and onto the floor. The flame in Damien's iris' burn out into a dark charcoal black and they go smaller in the white of his eyes as his eyelids widen up, desperate under the coughing. Asmodeus kicks him in the ribs, crashing him into the floor. Damien lies there, lifeless.

As I watch the horrifying scene in terror, I freeze, and I forget the boy still burning in my hands. When I _do_ get a grip of myself however, it's when the cold wine-coloured eyes move my way.

"He's down." He states, bobbing his towards the broken antichrist on the floor. "Are you going to do anything? Or are you just gonna sit there and shake in your shoes while I drag your demonic friend back to Hell?" His eyes then swim down to Kyle, and he adds, "While you watch your lover-boy burn in your arms?"

Fuck. He sure has a way with his words.

"You won't…" I mutter as I place Kyle gently on the carpet, leaving his heat as I stand onto my feet and face the demon possessing Kenny's body. I breathe and gather up my words with the deep breath.

"You won't take Damien back to Hell." I say clearly, as loud as I can with all the strength I can muster. I look down at the still body of the antichrist lying motionlessly in the puddle of his own blood.

And then I smirk, confidently. "Who else would fix Kyle if you take him?"

You might think I'm terrible. You might think I have no heart, smirking after observing my demon friend's lifeless body.

But how can I help myself?

A loud laugh responds to my words and Asmodeus barks at me.

"How ignorant and selfish!" He cackles, kicking Damien's motionless arm out of the way as he takes a step closer to me. The action makes my heart twitch in response, from agitation and anger.

"You really think you can make me do anything Stan Marsh?" He says as he comes towards me. "You really think you can stop me?"

He looks into my eyes, drilling burning holes into my pupils, and I suddenly feel my whole body melting, like lava, from the pit of my stomach. The pain. The boiling pain!

Do I scream?

I grit on my teeth, feeling my throat blocking up: every feature inside my body swelling up and closing in together. My throat, my intestines, my lungs, my veins- all of them feels like acid is slowly being poured into. I don't even notice myself falling to the ground coughing towards the floor in agony.

"Tickles, doesn't it?"

The demon's voice echoes all around, but he is standing just above me, somehow I can tell that much.

My back cracks and my ribs bang against the floor, and this time, I can hear myself yell at the impact. I feel a foot grind into my spine, digging me into the cold floor.

"How could you even think that you could stop me?" His foot finally leaves and I push myself up to gasp for air, but his foot swiftly slams into chest, making me tumble back a few rolls. "How could you? Being so weak?"

He kicks my arm away, in the same manner as he did to Damien, making free space for his path. His path, to the redhead behind me.

"Now if you don't mind, I'll like to finish off option two." I see his foot move beside my eyes. "I'll like to have some fun."

But before that foot can take another step away from me- another step closer to Kyle, I grab onto his ankle blankly.

"No you won't. I won't let you…" My voice is weak, I know. But my grip is stronger. I move my body to extend my second hand for the other foot and grab onto its ankle. With all my might, with all the power left in me, making sure he can't move, even if it's just for a second.

"We won't let you…"

And so I send the call.

"_NOW DAMIEN!" _

A shadow slides behind Asmodeus' back, the black of Damien. His flaming eyes leave glowing trails as he flies right up to us. I lose my mind in the raging red.

Oh shit…

I forgot this was Kenny's body…

Damien flings Kenny's body around fiercely, long, thin fingers digging into the blonde's shoulders mercilessly as my hands slide off of his orange parka.

"Damien, that's Kenny-!"

But I'm too late.

Quicker than an instant, the two demons burst into flames, lighting up the whole room in a fluorescent orange. The flames grow higher and higher, until they begin to caress the surface of the ceiling.

My jaw hangs open and my mouth moves without any words as I gaze disbelievingly at the two bodies burning in the silent fire.

A loud horrifying shriek shoots through the air, the sound of something that clearly isn't a human's pierces my eardrums in a queer and gentle way. From the calm look on Damien's face I know that it's not coming from him, so I look at Kenny, and shudder at what I see.

His eyes have rolled to the back of his head, turning into complete white. His jaw is hanging, mouth open wide, so wide, I can almost see the sides splitting through his cheeks. His expression is that of The Scream.

"Don't worry." A soft voice says and I avert my eyes back to Damien's calm expression.

"Don't worry?" I shriek. "You're on fire! You And Kenny Are On Fucking Fire!"

And they are. They are burning right in front of me. But still Damien doesn't change his relaxed muscles. I notice the hole in his shirt around is stomach, revealing clean healed skin. In the flames he stands as if it's just some strong wind. He really isn't human.

"These are the fires of Hell, there are my minions. They will not affect the human vessel." The antichrist explains. "They will only burn us demons and send us back to Hell."

A silence follows as I nod confusingly, trying to sink in his words.

"Wait- _us_?" The words mutter out my mouth before I even realise the meaning of them. "What do you mean _us_? You're going back to Hell too?"

"Unfortunately that's the only choice."

"But what-" I shake in frustration, watching the fire grow more brighter and menacing, but there's no heat. "Then what did we do all that for? Why Damien? Why try and break the seal in the first place if it's that easy for you to just give up! Is it really that easy for you? Then Fuck You!" I'm just so confused. "Why just give up? _Why?_"

The devil looks at me, sends me a firm glance- then drops his eyes to the boy lying behind me. And I realise, the gentleness in his eyes when he does.

"For Kyle?"

He chuckles at my disbelieved words, then gives a pathetic shrug.

"I thought that, if I left your body, stopped being influenced by you, your feelings and your thoughts, I would stop loving him. But why- it confuses me. The feeling is still inside me, as if I have stolen a piece of you away with me when I left your body. Unless, over the time this influenced feeling has developed to become something of my own." A small smile tints his lips, and his eyes fall to a soft warmth inside the roaring flames. "Or maybe this feeling was never influenced to begin with…"

Our eyes meet one last time. The shriek of the demon is nothing but a distant whisper to our ears.

"But it's not just for him."

His thin white lips leave a last smile.

"Thank you. Both of you. For teaching me so much."

The flames turn to ash, then into thin air. Just as quickly as the fire had lighted, it disappears into shadow without a trace.

And he is gone. He returned back to Hell, taking the king of all demons along with him.

Leaving an eerie silence, and those last words behind.

x

Another thing that he left behind falls to the ground with a heavy 'thud'. I look down, at the still body lying on the floor, his blond mousy hair spreading on the carpet, mouth hang open as if to snore.

There is no trace, no sign of burns or pain. He seems fine, too fine- oblivious of his situation.

With mild irritation, I ignore him and turn to the redhead behind me, still panting, still burning. Fuck.

"Kyle!"

I shout, my voice shaking the room, even making the blond behind me jolt up into life.

"What? What?" He mutters, but I ignore him and kneel beside Kyle.

"Kyle, dude, come on, are you okay? Dude, answer me!"

But he simply pants with red cheeks with sweat sliding down them, shaking with each breath he takes in my arms.

"Damn it! Damien was meant to fix you!" I mutter desperately to the sick redhead. But how can he now if he just went back to Hell?

"Dude, chill." A calm, almost blank voice says from behind me. This time I don't ignore him, and I look back to face Kenny. I'm that desperate.

"He's just hot." He states blankly. I blink, then glare at him in annoyance.

"Oh, you think I can't see that Kenny! He's fucking burning!"

"NO! I mean he's really _really_ fucking hot."

"What the fuck do you mean?" I would strangle him if Kyle weren't suffering right now in my arms! Kenny simply sighs and kneels down beside me.

"I guess you haven't noticed it, but look," he points at Kyle crouch.

And sure enough, what I see makes my face instantly heat up.

"Oh…"

"Yerp," Kenny nods in confirmation. "He's got some kind of aphrodisiac working on him. I think I know what it is, but dealing with Kyle is probably first priority here."

"'Dealing'…?" I ask, face burning even more as Kyle's panting seems to become louder to my conscious ears. Fucking hormones.

"I didn't mean it like that Stan, you fuckin' perv!" Says Kenny McCormick. "Although that would be an excellent way of dealing with it. I could go do it for you, except I know you'd kill me so let's get rid of that option hey?"

"Well what are we supposed to do then?" I don't even comment on Kenny's suggestion, not having the time for it.

"You could wait out on it." He shrugs. "Although personally, I think that would be inhumane."

"Why would it be inhumane?"

"'Cause Stan!" He bursts in disbelief. "Urgh. Just imagine it! Having the biggest motherfuckin' boner, like, biggest _GODDAMN_ motherfucking boner, and not being able to do anything about it, like having your hands tied to your back!"

The hot blood in my face travels down as a shiver into my stomach.

"For how long?" I ask quietly.

"For like, hours! I dunno dude. It depends on how strong the stuff is. But I think it works better on virgins."

A pause.

"Really?" The question comes out carefully out of my mouth.

"Yeah I think so-" Another pause. "Wait up Stan, are you sayin'" He looks from me, to Kyle, to me again. _"No-" _

My grip on Kyle tightens ever so slightly. "Fuck off."

But Kenny ignores my plead and falls into breaths of laughter.

"Dude, seriously? Fuck, with the way you- How can you _resist_?"

"Fuck you, he says that he doesn't want to yet, _okay_?"

"Okay, okay that's fine!" He raises his hands in the air defensively. "Wow Stan, that's like, five respect points right there, _damn_!"

"Could you just, help me get him onto the bed, please?"

And he does, chuckling at me on the way.

The redhead is still panting, hot and heavy, and we lower him onto the bed as carefully as we can but he still squeaks a moan when he contacts the mattress.

Although Kenny might have given me five respect points for restraining myself, my eyes keep on wondering down onto Kyle's erection as I pull the blanket up to his shoulders.

But his panting, his sweat, his flushed cheeks- it seems more agonising than I can imagine. It's amazing he's not begging anyone to fuck him right here and now.

"What the fuck would do this to him?" I mutter. "You said you might have an idea, what?"

Kenny, placing himself on the other bed, flings the top off a new bottle of beer.

"You know that demon Asmodeus?" He asks quietly. I nod. He was just in this room riding Kenny's body a few moments ago. "You know the seven deadly sins?" I nod again. "Well, when he took over my body, he said that he was one of them."

"Which one?"

He looks over to Kyle, and then back to his beer, the answer just too obvious.

"Lust."

He twirls the liquid in the bottle, and stares at it move. "That's why it was so easy for him to take over me, to lure me in. Because I'm such a fucking perv." He finally takes a swig, and I can tell by the long gulps of the alcohol how he's feeling about this whole event. Guilt.

"Dude, how did he, you know-"

"Tempt me?" Kenny finishes for me. "He told me that Damien was up to no good business with you and Kyle. I saw the text message from you saying that you guys were alone on a road trip and I… It kinda, made me worried to the bones man."

I feel a little frustrated towards Kenny's lack of faith in the antichrist, but still that doesn't sound like his fault at all.

"Dude, you were just worried about us. You were doing it for us dude, you didn't know. And how does that have anything to do with you being a motherfucking pervert?"

"Ah- because he said that he didn't need to do the usual ritual if it was with me? Since I'm more corrupted than he could ever wish for in a human?" He says it with disgust.

"Dude…"

"I know…" Another swig. And then, he looks back down at the rim of the bottle, coated with his saliva.

"Why Kyle's like that," he indicates the bed, "I think it's because he drank my beer earlier, before you guys went out. I think my spit had some sort of demonic power in it when Asmodeus provoked him into drinking it. I think that's why Damien got so worked up by it."

"Are you saying that Damien knew that you were possessed?"

"Well he didn't trust me, that's for sure. But when Kyle didn't react to it straight away, I think he relaxed, you know?"

We fall into silence. Kenny offers me his beer and I take one large gulp with ease.

"You were right, you know. You and Damien."

"What?" I wipe my mouth.

"About the seal. Asmodeus buried a goat at the Bailey Church Cemetery just before coming here. I had no idea what is was, but I guess it was important."

I nod. But it's too late now. Damien is gone- returned back to Hell in order to save Kyle and me.

Damien- God, what the fuck would he be doing now? I hope he's getting nothing more than a gay lecture from his dad. Satan? I don't even want to think about it. So I look back to the bed, and feel just as, if not more, bad.

"God. How long is he going to be like that?"

Kenny shakes his head. "I dunno dude. But I'm impressed. If I were him, I would be fucking every goddamn thing that had a hole."

I gaze at Kyle carefully with consideration, watching his body rise and fall under the sheets. And I choose, believing it to be the best choice.

"Kenny, could you step out for a minute?"

"Huh? Why?" I shrug, and so he sighs. "Fine."

He walks out with his bottle of beer, not asking another question. I'm grateful for that.

After making sure that he has shut the door, I move to Kyle's bed, and carefully slide into the covers beside him.

"Are you okay Ky?" I ask him, quietly as possible. He doesn't respond, just desperate to breathe in and breathe out. I curl my arms around him securely, pulling his back into my chest.

"It's okay, Kyle. Everything is going to be okay now…"

His breath becomes heavier and heavier, as if that's even possible, as my hands travel down from his chest, down his stomach, and further.

I repeat those words, calmly and gently, over and over again.

Because everything's okay now.

Everything is going to be okay.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- Thanks for reading guys. There will be one last chapter, but it's going to be real short. Just to stitch up a few things and give it a final ending.<strong>

**Really, thanks for coming this far. And I will probably say it again next chapter. I could say it over and over again. **


	18. Epilogue

**A.N- This is the end! The epilogue, it came fast. **

**Thank you everyone for all your reviews, all of them! And your favourites, alerts, messages, and of course, thank you for reading! It's thanks to you guys that this story has been completed.**

**But for my ritual for this story, thank you for reviewing last chapter:**

**RangerKenny (Such kind words! Here's the last chapter-)**

**Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Your reviews… I see your name almost every time and it makes me so happy.)**

**And Annabeth The Unicorn (Okay XD. I will send you one!)**

**Hope you all enjoy until the end~**

* * *

><p><em><span>An Epilogue: It's all there, <span>_

Date: 10/04, 11:02:44

From: Kyle

Subject: The window's white

-Hey Stan, how's school?

-I'm the same all, same all, you know? Just lying here, in this stupid hospital bed. You know, nothing exciting. I'm bored shitless actually.

-But I've been thinking about you. I've been thinking about you a lot.

-Actually you're the only thing I've been thinking about really.

-It's fucking gay as fuck, I know.

-But I know that's the way you like it, just as long as you're the one I'm gay for.

-Agh… Sorry.

-Sorry for sending you this message so suddenly, I know you're in the middle of class. But I couldn't help myself.

-I kinda feel agitated and uneasy right now. Like my heart has become a separate creature living inside my chest.

-I just don't feel like myself. But I promise, I won't text you any more inconvenient messages.

-It's snowing outside now. It's strange: it's like white dust disappearing into the air.

-Something's missing. I think something died today.

-But I'll get used to it.

x

…_There was so much in that text I didn't understand, but somehow, I couldn't develop the guts to ask him what it all meant. _

_I couldn't get the atmosphere of it. But I knew it was important. Because he would never share his true emotions and thoughts directly to someone's face anymore. _

_He wanted to let it all out, but he didn't want anyone to know. _

_But I wanted to know, and I still do._

_I still have that message in my phone._

x

He stays silent in the passenger seat of Pip's delivery, looking dazedly out the window, not an expression lighting his face. Blank, white, and deep.

Occasionally, no, every couple of seconds, I take my eyes off the road to steal a glance off the redhead, but he stays as still as a stone.

But what is worse than not being able to read his expression, is seeing his thin fingers occasionally grasp his shoulders as he shakes, only for a second, before he forces himself back into that frozen stance.

He hasn't said a thing all day- well he has, but only enough to count with your fingers.

Four things Kyle has said today:

"Where is Damien?" – I told him what had happened.

"You're hurt-" – I let him take care of my small cuts and wounds.

"See you back in South Park Kenny." - We waved the blond goodbye as his truck pulled out of the parking lot.

"We should go…" – We left the small motel.

The room was spotless clean when the sunlight shone through and lit it up the first thing this morning. No shattered glass, no dents in the wall, no broken furniture or scattered papers, and not a drop of blood in sight. It was like last night had never happened.

When I woke up this morning I found Kyle sleeping quietly in my arms. His breathing calm, skin perfectly warm, and milky cheeks back to its healthy colour. My fingers travelled along his soft skin, tracing his cheekbones. He was alive, and in well condition. Thank god.

But when he woke up I noticed one thing: his eyes. They would never meet mine properly once they had opened. They still don't.

The car is silent; the finished cassette tape still not changed. My guitar is in the trunk, but I don't think even my music can help right now. But you never know. That thing does magic to Kyle.

All day my mind has been on the silent redhead curled up into his own shell, and finally it builds up too much that I can't take this painful cluelessness anymore.

I push onto the breaks and the car slowly comes to a stop. The motion brings the redhead back to reality.

"What are you doing?" He asks. His voice. Finally.

"Let's take a break."

I lead us out into the freezing cold. We're on top of the winter mountains of course, a few steps ahead is white with mist. The only thing I can see right now, is Kyle.

We walk off the road and into the woods, just enough to be surrounded by the smell of fresh bark, and we both find our own tree to lean on.

He doesn't ask me how long we're going to be here for, which is both relieving and irritating at the same time. I know he's suffering inside, he's always been, so I don't want to feel this way but…

Why won't he tell me?

"Kyle?"

He looks up in reflex and accidently meet my eyes. Accidently, and freezes, his wide gaze locked in with my eyes. They are bright and green- the usual emeralds.

"You have to tell me what's wrong…" It's a plead. My voice is almost begging. But the pathetic sound of it creates a wave inside the redhead. The muscles in his firm face relaxes, and his lips part.

"What do you mean-"

"I mean your feelings dude! Obviously you're hiding something. You are saying that much by saying nothing!"

His mouth opens and closes. "I- I-"

"Kyle, I can't take it anymore! Just watching you keep in everything, all the time. Suffering by your self- Kyle, it's driving me crazy…"

"Stan, I-"

"Is it guilt Kyle? From being powerless against that demon? I was completely powerless too; it's not your fault Damien went back to Hell! Or is it shame? From what we did last night-"

"_STAN!" _

His yell snaps my brain back into reality and I notice that I've been saying things without fully considering them. I look up, to see the face of the boy who snapped me back to conscious, and to find tears streaming down his cheeks.

"It's not because of that…" His voice turns weak, rasp in his throat. "It has nothing to do with that…"

His desperate words squeeze my chest, closing up the tubes inside. His tears are small and quick, but they burn in my eyes.

"It's guilt- and shame… But not because of that."

"Then… what is it?"

I crouch down next to him and place myself on the snow, pulling the redhead onto my legs and into my arms.

He begins to lose control of the tension in his body, and slightly, against my body, he begins to shake. It makes his voice even quieter.

"I was so ready to die back then. Just a month or so ago I was so prepared. But what that demon did to me yesterday, when he killed my organs- when I was dying again for that brief moment- it hurt so much. And I was so terrified." An unguarded tear drops out of his eye and falls down his cheek. "Why? Just a while ago I was so ready to die. But now I'm so terrified… Stan, I don't want to die. I just finally realised that yesterday… I don't want to die,"

I tighten my hold around him, and rock us both calmly on the snow. The words I wanted to hear so much… were the words he wanted to say so much as well. And now it tears us both, so excruciatingly gently.

"I don't want to die, Stan… I want to live- I want to live with you."

"I know Kyle. I know. I want to live with you too." I feel like my vision is beginning to blur. "I'm so glad you're alive…"

x

Kyle's quiet voice breaks the hour-long silence, quietly, but readily.

"Let's go…"

"You go-" I tell him after we get up from the melted snow. "Wait for me in the car. I'll go in a minute or so. I just want to clear my head…"

He looks at me blankly, but with subtle sadness shaking in his eyes. Sadness, and acceptance. Unnecessary heart lurching acceptance. It makes him drag his feet behind him heavily as I watch him go without me. And how his lonely back makes me want to run up to hold him firmly and never let go.

But no.

I stay here, for a minute, to finish one last thing that I haven't done yet.

From the pocket of my jeans, I slide my phone out and open it, thumb skilfully swimming through each button until I land on what I'm looking for.

'Subject: The window's white' it glows. 'From: Kyle'

I press on it.

For the hundredth time or so, I skim my eyes through the message I have long since memorised; his voice reads out the message to me in my head.

How long has it been? If I look at the date Kyle sent me the message, it would be more than easy enough to find out. But I won't. I don't want to do anything that might screw up my determination to send this message.

It's short. But it's all I want to say.

Some people say that technology takes away all the emotion from words but I think Kyle proved me wrong that day.

I think that message told me more than his voice could ever had.

And I hope I can do the same too.

I press the send button, apologising to Kyle silently about the long wait.

I don't get a response immediately, or after a while of waiting. And I'm glad for that.

The answer would be in his voice, his actions and his emotions. The answer will be there when I see him in a few seconds.

I can't wait.

xxx

It has been nearly a week since Damien returned to Hell, and the winter holidays are now coming to a close. School starts tomorrow.

I can't lie and say that he hasn't been on my mind, and I can't lie and say that it hasn't been on Kyle's mind either.

Something possessed me and I told Kyle a little about the antichrist: his father-and-son relationship, his life as royalty, his loneliness and his confusing philosophy on Heaven and Hell, and Earth. I couldn't explain the whole thing well for Kyle since I didn't understand the whole thing too well myself. But I think Kyle understood.

"If you think of it like Devils and demons it makes it all complicated…" He murmured after I told him the story of the antichrist. "But if you think of it like normal people, it's really simple."

I sometimes wonder how everyone doesn't fall in love with Kyle like I do, at the same time wondering how anyone could ever fall in love him but me. But when I heard him say those words so easily, I think I knew why Damien fell like I did, even without my influence, in his own way.

But despite our worry, concern, curiosity, whatever- we have heard nothing from the devil. Well, nothing except for that one small text he sent us.

'_Communication is the key.'_

It said simply. Just that.

We sent back a message but nothing have we received in return. Despite the fact that I had been sharing the same body with him for nearly two months doesn't make him any easier to read.

Kyle smiled when he saw the text though. I didn't ask him what he saw in the message that I didn't see. I didn't say that I was a little jealous.

"Hey Stan, have you heard? There's a new kid starting at South Park High tomorrow." Kyle says from my bed, scrolling through his phone. "He's someone we know."

"Who?"

He just shrugs with a troubled smile, and locks his eyes back onto the small screen. With great difficulty, I drag my eyes back onto the homework that I've left to the last minute.

"Maths: urgh. What is the use of it to humanity?" I groan, dropping my head into the pages of misery.

"That's why I told you to do it earlier." Kyle jumps up from my bed and hops up behind me, resting forward onto the back of my chair.

"Well," I reconsider, looking up to find Kyle's face barely inches away from mine. "At least it's not Latin."

Kyle blinks blankly at me, then falls into a bright harmony of laughter.

Apparently there's a new kid starting at South Park High School tomorrow.

Apparently he's someone we all know.

Who could possibly want to start at a new school at such a weird time, in the middle of the last school year?

Whoever he is, he won't be a normal person.

That's for sure.

"Can't wait for tomorrow, huh?" Kyle grins as he leans further into the back of my chair, the small space between us slowly closing in.

I smile at him. Suddenly feeling all the gratefulness and content in the world.

"Yeah."

x

Date: 02/14, 16:45:24

To: Kyle

Re: The window's white

-Nothing's missing. It's all there.

-I know.

-I can feel it.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N- End. <strong>

**Thank you for reading!**

**And even a special one: **_**thank you for reading to the end!**_

**Did you enjoy the ride? I hope you did.**

'**Cause I did!**

**See ya-**

**From Koi, with love. **


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